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SIR WALTER SCOTT 







































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The Western Series of English and 
American Classics 


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The Lady of the Lake 

By 

SIR WALTER SCOTT 


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p]DiTED FOR School Use 

BY 

Gkace E. Jencke 

Head of the Department of English 
Southwestern Teachers' College 



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HARLOW PUBLISHING COMPANY 
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1926 












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CONTENTS 


Page 

Biography of Sir Walter Scott _ i 

Historical Background _ vii 

A. Basis for the Story _ vii 

B. Highlanders and Borderers of 

Scotland _viii 

C. James V. of Scotland--- xiii 

Criticism _ xxi 

The Lady of the Lake 

Canto First_ 1 

' Canto Second -31 

Canto Third _64 

Canto Fourth_92 

Canto Fifth _122 

Canto Sixth _158 

Glossary --- ^ -189 

Suggestions to Teachers - 201 

Questions for Study - 205 

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1 4 




BIOGRAPHY OF SIR WALTER SCOTT 

iSir Walter Scott was excellently fitted to write 
the type of poem which he has given us in The 
Lady of the Lake as can easily be seen in the 
following brief biography. 

He was, as he tells us in his Autobiography, 
the descendant of several characters well known 
in Scottish legend, among them his father's 
grandfather, Walter Scott, known in Teviotdale 
by the surname of “Beardie,” a name given him 
because of ‘‘a venerable beard which he wore un¬ 
blemished by razor or scissors, in token of his 
regret for the banished dynasty of Stuart." 
‘‘Beardie" was the second son of Walter Scott, 
first Laird of Raeburn, who was the third son of 
Sir William Scott, and the grandson of Walter 
Scott commonly called in tradition Auld Watt of 
Harden. 'T am therefore," says Scott, “lineally 
descended from the ancient Chieftain, whose 
name I have made to ring in many a ditty, and 
from his fair dame, the Flower of Yarrow—no 
bad genealogy for a Border minstrel.’" 

Early environment was, however, probably a 
far more important contributing factor in awak¬ 
ening his love for the stirring tales of Highland¬ 
ers and Borderers' than was his heredity. Scott’s 
grandmother, in whose home he spent much of his 
early childhood, and in whose earlier life the old 
Border raids were a matter of early tradition, 

^The quotations from the Autobiography were taken from 
those given by Lockhart in his Life of Scott. 

“See “A Lesson in the Historical Background.” 



ii The Lady of the Lake 

used, as he says, “to tell me many a tale of Watt 
of Harden, Wight Willie of Aikwood, Jamie of 
Telfer of the fair Dodhead, and other heroes,— 
merrymen all of the persuasion and calling of 
Robin Hood and Little John.” His aunt, Miss 
Janet Scott, of whom he speaks often in the Au- 
tohiography, read patiently long passages until 
he could repeat from memory certain lengthy 
ballads. Later, it was his mother who encouraged 
and fostered in him his love of reading. 

The fact that Scott early became lame and that 
the lameness continued throughout his life is at 
least partially responsible for his spending so 
many hours in reading and for his acquiring the 
marvelous fund of legend upon which to draw 
later for his writings. 

From the time of his birth, August 15, 1771, 
until he was about eighteen months old he showed 
every sign of health and strength. But at that 
time he became ill, the illness resulting in the loss 
of the power of his right leg. On this account 
he was sent to live at the home of his grandfather 
in the country. When he was four, still in an 
effort to improve his health, his aunt took him 
to Bath. It was there that his formal education 
was begun at “a day school kept by an old dame 
near our lodgings,’^ says the author, in the Auto¬ 
biography, “and I never had a more regular teach¬ 
er, although I think I did not attend here a quar¬ 
ter of a year.” From Bath, he returned to his 
father’s h'ome in Edinburgh and later to his 
grandfather’s at Sandy-Knowe. 

When Scott was eight years old, another at- 


Biography of Sir Walter Scott 


111 



ABBOTSFORD 

































































iv The Lady of the Lake 

tempt was made to improve his health, this time 
by sea bathing at Prestonpans. After his return 
from this place, he lived, for the most part, at his 
father’s home in Edinburgh, at first finding it 
difficult to make the adjustment from being the 
only child in his grandfather’s home to being one 
child in a large family of brothers and sisters. 

He attended the grammar school or high 
school of Edinburgh where he excelled only in 
certain types of scholarship, “glancing,” as he 
says, “like a meteor from one end of the class to 
the other.” 

After remaining in school for six or seven 
years, iScott entered his father’s office to study 
law and was enrolled in the law classes of the 
University. In 1792, he passed the examinations 
and was admitted to the bar. 

His real interest lay, however, in literature, 
and, after nineteen years of not too-satisfactory 
practice, he succeeded in receiving certain small 
legal offices which gave him sufficient income to 
enable him to direct his attention to literature. 
His first works were translations from the Ger¬ 
man. Minstrelsy of the Scottish Bor^^er, in three 
volumes, appeared in 1802-3. In 1805 came his 
first original production. The Lay of the Last 
Minstrel. This poem met With success from the 
start and was followed by Marmion in 1808 and 
The Lady of the Lake in 1810. Scott now became 
famous -as a poet and decided to discontinue his 
legal work altogether in order to give all of his 
time to poetry. 

It was not long, however, before he discovered 


Biography of Sir Walter Scott 


V 


that there was another field of literature upon 
which his enduring fame was to be built. The 
poems, Rokeby^ The Bridal of Triermain, and 
The Lord of the Isles, which followed the first 
three, were not successful. Scott now began ex¬ 
perimenting with the historical type of novel. 
Waverly appeared in 1814. Its success was im¬ 
mediate and very great. Soon there followed 
Guy Mannering, The Antiquary, Black Dwarf, 
Old Mortality, Rob Roy, and The Heart of Mid¬ 
lothian. In 1820, Ivanhoe appeared, the first of 
the English historical romances. It was followed 
by The Fortunes of Nigel and Peveril of the Peak, 
and Kenilworth, all of which have their back¬ 
grounds in the history of England; by Quentin 
Durward, dealing with French history; by The 
Talisman, chronicling various events of the Cru¬ 
sades ; and by a number of other less well-known 
works. 

The latter part of Scott’s life was not happy. 
In 1810 he had unfortunately entered into secret 
partnership with the firms of Constable and the 
brothers Ballantyne, his publishers. The follow¬ 
ing year he bought the estate of Abbotsford on 
the Tweed. To maintain Abbotsford required 
large sums of money, especially after its owner 
was made a baronet in 1820. One of Scott’s few 
weaknesses was shown when he tried by lavish 
entertainment to live up to the dignity of his 
estate and title. 

In 1826, the Ballantyne firm failed. Scott was 
only a silent partner but here his real nobility 
showed itself, for he assumed the responsibility 


VI 


The Lady of the Lake 


of paying the half-million dollar indebtedness 
rather than have the creditors suffer. When he 
took upon himself this burden of debt he was 
already fifty-five years old and his health was 
seriously impaired. His wife, Margaret Charp- 
entier Scott, to whom he had been married on 
Christmas eve of 1797, died shortly after the 
failure. 

Always a prolific writer, having produced for 
some time an average of nearly two novels a 
year, Scott now redoubled his efforts and in two 
years had paid approximately two hundred thou¬ 
sand dollars of the debt. Had a few years of 
health been granted him, it seems almost certain 
that he would have discharged the entire indebt¬ 
edness. 

A trip to Italy was undertaken in 1832, at the 
expense of the British government, in an attempt 
to improve his health. He spent several months 
abroad, but little improvement resulted. He re¬ 
turned to Abbotsford—which his creditors had 
refused to accept when he offered it—and 
there on September 21, 1832, he died. One of his 
last speeches to John Gibson Lockhart, his son- 
in-law and biographer, is significant: “My dear, 
be a good man,—be virtuous,—be religious,—be 
a good man. Nothing else will give you comfort 
when you come to lie here.’’ 


HISTORICAL BACKGROUND 


A. Basis for the Story 

Is THE Story True? This is usually the first 
question which arises in the mind of the reader 
of historical poems or novels. The Lady of the 
Lake deals with a distinct period in the life of 
James V. of Scotland, and it has a considerable 
background of facts. The events of the story are, 
however, for the most part, fictitious. The Doug¬ 
las of the poem is an imaginary uncle of a his¬ 
torical character, Archibald Douglas, sixth Earl 
of Angus, under whose tutelage the young King 
was held for some time. Roderick Dhu, the out¬ 
lawed chieftain, is also fictitious, but he is truly 
typical. 

Notwithstanding the fact that the events are 
largety imaginary and the characters are created 
by the author, the poem gives us a true picture 
of Border life. The poet or novelist has a very 
real advantage over the historian in that he can 
make history live for us while the historian can 
merely record facts. Scott, in The Lady of the 
Lake, takes us into the inner lives of the High¬ 
landers and Borderers, that is, remnants of Gae¬ 
lic tribes, Saxon tribes, and a mixture of Celt and 
Teuton. Their thoughts and feelings are revealed 
to us; we see them at home with their families; 
we understand many of their interesting customs 
and beliefs, and, consequently, they become to 
us real, living men and women. 

[vii] 7^ - 


The Lady of the Lake 


viii 

That iScott has revitalized, made to live again, 
a historical period and an important historical 
figure can be understood from the following ac¬ 
counts abridged from Scott’s Tales of a Grand¬ 
father. These paragraphs should be carefully 
read, as they form the historical background of 
the poem. They show that Scott has selected a 
“dramatic moment” in history as the basis or 
unstable situation for his plot. The actions and 
reactions of characters upon each other, or of 
characters to or upon environment were strongly 
motivated by history. Scott did not invent ac¬ 
tions and feelings; he adapted them: from life in 
Scotland as life had been lived. In the back¬ 
ground of Scottish history is the struggle and 
hatred of a thousand years. Gael, Scott and Eng¬ 
lish had lived through years of conquest and ter¬ 
ror. Mixture of race and language, struggle for 
livelihood, and for racial solidarity established 
a stage upon which the events of The Lady of the 
Lake seem convincing and true. A spark would 
set the heather on fire at the time our story opens, 
we may say, when we think of the' mixed races, 
and the ancient grudges and feuds. 

B. Highlanders and Borderers of Scotland 

(Abricl.i;ed from Scott's Talcs of a Grandfather) 

There were two great divisions of the country, 
the Highlands and the Borders, which were so 
much wilder and more barbarous than the others, 
that they might be said to be altogether without 
law; and although they were nominally subjected 
to the King of Scotland, yet when he desired to 


Historical Background 


IX 


execute any justice in either of those great dis¬ 
tricts, he could not do so otherwise than by 
marching there in person at the head of a strong 
body of soldiers, seizing the offenders and put¬ 
ting them to death with little or no form of trial. 
Such a rough course of justice, perhaps, made 
these disorderly countries quiet for a short time, 
but it rendered them still more averse to the 
royal government in their hearts, and disposed 
on the slightest occasion to break out, either with 
disorders among themselves, or into open rebel¬ 
lion. I must give you some particular account of 
these wild and uncivilized districts of Scotland, 
and of the particular sort of people who were 
their inhabitants, that you may know what 1 
mean when I speak of Highlanders and Border¬ 
ers. 

The Highlands of Scotland, so called from the 
rocky mountainous character of the country, con¬ 
sist of a very large proportion of the northern 
parts of that kingdom. It was into these path¬ 
less wildernesses that the Romans drove the an¬ 
cient inhabitants of Great Britain (Celts, Piets 
and Scots) ; and it was from these that they after¬ 
wards sallied to invade and distress that part of 
Britain which the Romans had conquered, and in 
some degree civilized. The inhabitants of the 
Highlands spoke, and still speak, a language to¬ 
tally different from the Lowland Scottst The 
Lowland Scotch does not differ greatly from Eng- 


’The Gaelic is a Celtic dialect. Lowland Scotch is mixed 
with northern English, a Teutonic dialect, while English as 
we know it is a midland or mixed Teutonic dialect. The 



X 


The Lady of the Lake 


lish, and the inhabitants of Scotland and England 
easily understood each other, though neither of 
them comprehended the Gaelic, which is the lan¬ 
guage of the Highlanders. The dress of these 
mountaineers was also different from that of the 
Lowlanders. They wore a plaid, or mantle of 
frieze, or of a striped stuff called tartan, one end 
of which, being wrapped around the waist, formed 
a short petticoat, which descended to the knee, 
while the rest was folded round them like a sort of 
cloak. They had buskins made of rawhide; and 
those who could get a bonnet, had that covering 
for their heads, though many never wore one dur¬ 
ing their whole lives, but had only their own 
shaggy hair tied back by a leathern strap. They 
went always armed, carrying bows and arrows, 
large swords, which they wielded with both hands, 
called claymores, poleaxes, and daggers for close 
fight. For defense, they had a round wooden 
shield, or target stuck full of nails; and their 
great men had shirts of mail, not unlike to the 
flannel shirts now worn, only composed of links 
of iron instead of threads of worsted; but the 
common men were so far from desiring armor, 
that they sometimes threw their plaids away, 
and fought in their shirts, which they wore very 
long and large, after the Irish fashion. 

This part of the Scottish nation (Highlanders) 
was divided into clans, that is, tribes. The per¬ 
sons composing each of these clans believed them- 


languages found on the border indicated the races found 
there, which would not mix. Each retained its speech, its 
traditions, manners, customs, and religion. 



Historical Background 


XI 


selves all to be descended, at some distant period, 
from the same common ancestor, whose name 
they usually bore. Thus, one tribe was called 
MacDonald, which signifies the sons of Donald; 
another MacGregor, or the sons of Gregor; Mac- 
Neil, the sons of Neil, and so on. Every one of 
these tribes had its own separate chief or com¬ 
mander, whom they supposed to be the immediate 
representative of the great father of the tribe 
from whom they were all descended. To this 
chief they paid the most unlimited obedience, and 
willingly followed his commands in peace or in 
war; not caring, althou^, in doing so, they trans¬ 
gressed the laws of the king, or went into rebel¬ 
lion against the king himself. Each tribe lived 
in a valley, or district of the mountains, separated 
from the others; and they often made war upon, 
and fought desperately, with each other. But with 
Lowlanders, they were always at war. They dif¬ 
fered from them in language, in dress, and in 
manners; and they believed that the richer 
grounds of the low country had formerly belonged 
to their ancestors, and therefore they made in¬ 
cursions upon it, and plundered it without mercy. 
The Lowlanders, on the other hand, equal in 
courage and superior in discipline, gave many 
severe checks to the Highlanders; and thus there 
was almost constant war or discord between them, 
though natives of the same country. 

Upon the whole, you can easily understand 
that these Highland clans, living among such 
high and inaccessible mountains, and paying 
obedience to no one save their own chiefs, should 


The Lady of the Lake 


xii 

have been very instrumental in disturbing the 
tranquillity of the kingdom of Scotland. They had 
many virtues, being a kind, brave, and hospitable 
people, and remarkable for their fidelity to their 
chiefs; but they were restless, revengeful, fond 
of plunder, and delighting rather in war than in 
peace, in disorder than in repose. 

The Border countries were in a state little more 
favorable to a quiet or peaceful government. In 
some respects the inhabitants of the counties of 
Scotland lying opposite to England, greatly re¬ 
sembled the Highlanders, and particularly in their 
being, like them, divided into clans, and having 
chiefs, whom they obeyed in preference to the 
King, or the officers whom he placed among them. 
How clanship came to prevail in the Highlands 
and Borders, and not in the provinces which sep¬ 
arated them from each other, it is not easy to 
conjecture, but the fact was sa. The Borders are 
not, indeed, so n^ountainous and inaccessible a 
country as the Highlands; but they are full of 
hills, especially on the more western part of the 
frontier, and were in early times covered with for¬ 
ests, and divided by small rivers and morasses 
into dales and valleys, where the different clans 
lived, making war sometimes on the English, 
sometimes on each other, and sometimes on the 
more civilized country which lay behind them. 

But though the Borderers resembled the High¬ 
landers in their mode of government and habits 
of plundering, and, as it may be truly added, in 
their disobedience to the general government of 
Scotland, yet they differed in many particulars. 


Historical Background 


xiii 

The Highlanders fought always on foot; the Bor¬ 
derers were all horsemen. The Borderers spoke 
the same language with the Lowlanders, wore the 
same sort of dress, and carried the same arms. 
Being accustomed to fight against the English, 
they were also much better disciplined than the 
Highlanders. But in point of obedience to the 
Scottish government, they were not much differ¬ 
ent from the clans of the north. 

Military officers, called Wardens, were appoint¬ 
ed along the Borders, to keep these unruly people 
in order; but as these wardens were generally 
themselves chiefs of clans, they did not do mjuch 
to mend the evil. Robert the Bruce committed a 
great part of the charge of the Borders to the 
good Lord James of Douglas, who fulfilled his 
trust with great fidelity. But the power which 
the family of Douglas thus acquired, proved after¬ 
wards, in the hands of his successors, very 
dangerous to the crown of Scotland. 

Thus you see how much the poor country of 
Scotland was torn to pieces by the quarrels of the 
nobles, the weakness of the laws, the disorders 
of the Highlands, and the restless incursions 
of the Borderers, and how Scott used this setting 
for his romance and a plot which is true and con¬ 
vincing as a picture of border warfare. 

C. JAMES V. OF Scotland (1512-1542) 

(Abridsecl from Scott’s Tales of a OranUfatJier) 

James V., the son of James IV. of Scotland, 
and Margaret, who was the sister of Henry VIIL 
of England, ascended the throne when a child 


XIV 


The Lady of the Lake 


of hardly two years. His father had been killed 
in the battle of Flodden in 1513. The Queen 
Mother ruled as regent until she lost favor with 
her people. She then lost the regency and the 
control of her son. The Douglas family, into 
whose control the King had fallen, guarded him 
very closely. 

The close restraint, in which the King found 
himself, increased his eager desire to be rid of all 
the Douglases together. 

Accordingly, he prevailed on his mother. Queen 
Margaret, to yield up to him the castle of Stirling. 
Having put it into the hands of a governor who 
was friendly to himself, he waited for a favora¬ 
ble opportunity and one morning, pretending to 
be going on a stag hunt, he fled to Stirling Castle. 
The drawbridges were raised, the portcullises 
were dropt, guards set, and every measure of de¬ 
fense and precaution resorted to. 

Soon a sentence of forfeiture was passed 
against the Earl of Angus, and he was driven into 
exile with all of his friends and kinsmen. 

Freed from the stern control of the Douglas 
family, James V. now began to exercise the gov¬ 
ernment in person, and displayed most of the 
qualities of a wise and good prince. He was 
handsome in his person, and resembled his father 
in the fondness for military exercises, and the 
spirit of chivalrous humor which James IV. loved 
to display. He also inherited his father’s love of 
justice, and his desire to establish and enforce 
wise and equal laws which should protect the- 
weak against the oppression of the great. It was 


Historical Background 


XV 


easy enough to make laws, but to put them in 
vigorous exercise was of much greater difficulty; 
and in his attempt to accomplish this laudable 
purpose, James often incurred the ill-will of the 
more powerful nobles. He was a well-educated 
and accomplished man; and like his ancestor, 
James I., he was a poet and musician. He had, 
however, his defects. He avoided his father’s 
failing of profusion, having no hoarded treasures 
to employ on pomp and show; but he rather fell 
into the opposite fault, being of a temper too 
parsimonious; and though he loved state and dis¬ 
play, he endeavored to gratify that taste as eco¬ 
nomically as possible, so that he has been censured 
as rather close and covetous. He was also, though 
the foibles seem inconsistent, fond of pleasure 
and disposed to too much indulgence. It must 
be added, that when provoked, he was unrelenting 
even to cruelty; for which he had some apology, 
considering the ferocity of the subjects over 
whom he reigned. But, on the whole, James V. 
was an amiable man, and a good sovereign. 

His first care was to bring the Borders of Scot¬ 
land to some degree of order. These, as you were 
formerly told, were inhabited by tribes of men, 
forming each a different clan, as they were 
called, and obeying no orders, save those which 
were given by their chiefs. These chiefs were 
supposed to represent the first founder of the 
namo, or family. The attachment of the clans¬ 
men to the chief was very great; indeed they paid 
respect to no one else. In this the Borderers 
agreed with the Highlanders, as also in their love 


XVI 


The Lady of the Lake 


of plunder and neglect of the general laws of the 
country. But the Border men wore no tartan 
dress, and served almost always on horseback, 
whereas the Highlanders acted always on foot. 
You will also remember that the Borderers spoke 
the Scottish language, and not the Gaelic tongue 
used by the mountaineers. 

The situations of these clans on the frontiers 
exposed them to constant war; so that they 
thought of nothing else but of collecting bands of 
their followers together, and making incursions, 
without much distinction, on the English, on the 
Lowland (or inland) Scots, or upon each other. 
They paid little respect either to times of truce 
or treaties of peace, but exercised their depreda¬ 
tions without regard to either, and often occa¬ 
sioned wars between England and Scotland which 
would not otherwise have taken place. 

The first step of James V. was to secure 
the persons of the principal chieftains by whom 
these disorders were privately encouraged, and 
other powerful chiefs, who might have opposed 
the King’s purposes. These were seized and im¬ 
prisoned in separate fortresses in the inland coun¬ 
try. 

James then assembled an army, in which war¬ 
like purposes were united with those of silvan 
sport; for he ordered all the gentlemen in the 
wild districts which he intended to visit, to bring 
in their best dogs, as if his only purpose had been 
to hunt the deer in those desolate regions. This 
was intended to prevent the Borderers from tak¬ 
ing the alarm, in which case they would have 


Historical Background xvii 

retreated into their mountains and fastnesses, 
from whence it would have been difficult to dis¬ 
lodge them. 

These men had no distinct idea of the offenses 
which they had committed, and consequently no 
apprehension of the King’s displeasure against 
them. The laws had been so long silent in that 
remote and disorderly country, that the outrages 
which were practiced by the strong against the 
weak, seemed to the perpetrators the natural 
course of society, and to present nothing that was 
worthy of punishment. 

Thus as the King, in the beginning of his ex¬ 
pedition, suddenly aproached the castle of Piers 
Cockburn of Henderland, that baron was in the 
act of providing a great entertainment to wel¬ 
come him, when James caused him to be suddenly 
seized on, and executed. Other nobles met a sim¬ 
ilar fate. 

Such were the effects of the terror struck by 
these general executions, that James was said to 
have made “the rush bush keep the cow”; that 
is to say that even in this lawless part of the 
country, men dared no longer make free with 
property, and cattle might remain on their pas¬ 
tures unwatched. 

On the other hand, the Borders of Scotland 
were greatly weakened by the destruction of so 
many brave men, who, notwithstanding their law¬ 
less course of life, were true defenders of their 
country; and there is reason to censure the extent 
to which James carried his severity, as being to 


xviii The Lady of the Lake 

a certain degree impolitic, and beyond doubt 
cruel and excessive. 

In the like manner, James proceeded against 
the Highland chiefs; and by executions, forfeit¬ 
ures, and other severe measures, he brought the 
Northern mountaineers, as he had already done 
those of the iSouth, into comparative subjection. 
He then set at liberty the Border chiefs, and 
others whom he had imprisoned, lest they should 
have offered any hindrance to the course of his 
j ustice. 

James V., like his father James IV., had a cus¬ 
tom of going about the country disguised as a 
private person, in order that he might hear com¬ 
plaints which might not otherwise reach his ears, 
and, perhaps, that he might enjoy amusements 
which he could not have partaken of in his avowed 
royal character. 

James V. was very fond of hunting, and, when 
he pursued that amusement in the Highlands, he 
used to wear the peculiar dress of that country, 
having a long and wide Highland shirt, and jack¬ 
et of tartan velvet, with plaid hose, and every¬ 
thing else corresponding. The accounts for these 
are in the books of his chamberlain, still pre¬ 
served. 

The reign of James V. was not alone distin¬ 
guished by his personal adventures and pastimes, 
but is honorably remembered on account of wise 
laws made for the government of his people, and 
for restraining the crimes and violence which 
were frequently practiced among them; especially 
those of assassination, burning of houses, and 


Historical Background xix 

driving of cattle, the usual and ready means by 
which powerful chiefs avenged themselves of their 
feudal enemies. 

As the Kingdom of Scotland, except during a 
very short and indecisive war with England, re¬ 
mained at peace till near the end of the reign of 
James V., and as that monarch was a wise and 
active prince, it might have been hoped that he 
at least would have escaped the misfortunes which 
seemed to haunt the name of Stuart. But he 
was scarely thirty-one years old, in the prime of 
life, when he died. James had suffered some of 
his advisers to hurry him into a war with Eng¬ 
land. When the news of the rout of Solway, when 
the Scots had fled without even attempting to 
fight, was brought to him, he shut himself up in 
Falkland, and refused to listen to any consola¬ 
tion. A burning fever, the consequence of his 
grief and shame, seized on the unfortunate mon¬ 
arch. When they brought him tidings that his 
wife had given birth to a daughter, who after¬ 
wards became the brilliant, but most unfortunate, 
Mary Queen of Scots, he only replied, “It is so?” 
reflecting on the alliance which had placed the 
Stuart family on the throne; “Then God’s will be 
done. It came with a lass, and it will go with a 
lass.” With these words, presaging the extinc¬ 
tion of his house, he made a signal of adieu to 
his courtiers, spoke little more, but turned his 
face to the wall and, when scarcely thirty-one 
years old, in the very prime of life, he died of 
the most melancholy of all diseases, a broken 
heart. 















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CRITICISM 


(An approach to the study of The Lady of the Lake) 

‘‘Harp of the North! that mouldering long hast 
hung 

On the witch-elm that shades Saint Fillan’s 
spring, 

And down the fitful breeze thy numbers flung, 
Till envious ivy did around thee cling. 
Muffling with verdant ringlet every string,— 
0 minstrel Harp, still must thine accents 
sleep ? 

Mid rustling leaves and fountains murmuring. 
Still must thy sweeter sounds their silence 
keep, 

Nor bid a warrior smile, nor teach a maid to 
weep? 

“Not thus in ancient days of Caledon, 

Was thy voice mute amid the festal crowd. 
When lay of hopeless love, or glory won. 
Aroused the fearful or subdued the proud. 
At each according pause, was heard aloud 
Thine ardent symphony sublime and high! 
Fair dames and crested chiefs attention bow’d; 

For still the burthen of thy minstrelsy 
Was Knighthood’s dauntless deed, and Beauty’s 
matchless eye. 

“0 wake once more! how rude soe’er the hand 
That ventures o’er thy magic maze to stray; 


[xxij 


xxii The Lady of the Lake 

0 wake once more! though scarce my skill com¬ 
mand 

Some feeble echoing of thine earlier lay: 

Though harsh and faint, and soon to die away, 
And all unworthy of thy nobler strain, 

Yet if one heart throb higher at its sway, 

The wizard note has not been touched in vain. 

Then silent be no more! Enchantress, wake 
again 

With these stanzas Sir Walter Scott began The 
Lady of the Lake. He expressed his regret that 
the “Harp of the North,” or the poets and story¬ 
tellers of Scotland, had been so long silent; that 
the songs and legends of brave men and fair 
women had been neglected or forgotten. In this 
poem he proposed to “wake once more” that Harp, 
symbolic of Scottish minstrelsy. His hand upon 
the string might be rude, he explained, but if 
“one heart throb higher at its sway,” his effort 
would not have been in vain. 

Why was the poem written? Sir Walter Scott 
wrote The Lady of the Lake because he loved, 
and had loved from childhood, the tales of the 
Border and the Highlands. He hoped to give 
pleasure to his readers by telling, in a straight¬ 
forward manner, with spirit and animation, a 
good story—a story moving rapidly and abound¬ 
ing in stirring descriptions and vivid pictures. 
Scott himself said that if there was anything good 
about his poetry it was that quality which pleased 
“soldiers, sailors, and young people of bold and 
active dispositions.” One critic has said: “All 


Criticism xxiii 

Scott’s verse is written for boys; and boys, gen¬ 
eration after generation, will love it with the 
same freshness of response. It has adventure, 
manliness, bright landscape, fighting, the obvious 
emotions; it is like a gallop across the moors in 
a blithe wind; it has plenty of story, and is al¬ 
most as easily read as if it were prose.”' 

To what type does the poem belong? In type 
The Lady of the Lake is classified as a metrical 
romance; that is, a long narrative poem having a 
plot somewhat complex but lacking the intricacy, 
the national scope, and the sublimity of tone of 
the longest of narrative poems, the epic. O’ur 
interest in the metrical romance is usually cen¬ 
tered, as is the case in this poem, on the romantic 
aspect of the story. 

What is the meter? The meter of the poem is 
iambic tetrameter, that is, each of the lines is 
made up of eight syllables, the accent or stress 
falling usually upon the even syllable: 

The stag at eve had drunk his fill. 

Where danced the moon on Monan’s rill. 

Each of the cantos, however, begins with a 
single introductory stanza, or a group of such in¬ 
stances each consisting of nine lines or verses. 
In each of the first eight lines of these introduc¬ 
tory stanzas there are five iambic feet while the 
last line has six of the same type. The stanza 
has a definite rhyme scheme, ababhcbcc. 
This kind of stanza is called a Spenserian stanza 

.^Arthur Symons in The Atlantic Monthly, November, 
1904. 



XXIV 


The Lady of the Lake 


because it was first used by Edmund Spenser in 
his Faery Queen. 

The rhyme scheme of the main body of the 
poem is aa, bb, cc, etc., or in couplets. 

The rather long- ballad given in Canto Fourth 
is written, for the most part, in typical ballad 
form—four-line stanzas made up .of iambic 
tetrameter and iambic trimeter lines alternating 
and rhyming a b c b. 

Other verse variations are found in the various 
songs introduced. 

Where do the events of the story take place? 
The scene of the story is in Scotland, chiefly in 
the vicinity of Loch Katrine in the Western High¬ 
lands of Perthshire. The reading of the poem 
will gain additional interest if the map is used 
for locating the various places mentioned. 

When did the events happen? The events of 
the story are supposed to have taken place during 
the reign of James V. of Scotland, during the 
early half of the sixteenth century. 

What is the duration of action? The poem is 
divided into six Cantos, each of which recounts 
the events of one day. The length of time which 
elapses, then, between the opening of Canto First 
to the closing of Canto Sixth is six days. 


THE LADY OF THE LAKE 



Sketch map of 

GcntralScotland 

showing localities 
mentioned in the 

Lady of theLAPo: 

Scale of miles 


O' 13 4 5 
















The Lady of the Lake 


CANTO FIRST. 

TEE CHASE. 

Harp of the North! that mouldering long hast hung 
On the witch-elm that shades Saint Fillan’s 
spring, 

And down the fitful breeze thy numbers flung, 

Till envious ivy did around thee cling, 

Muffling with verdant ringlet every string,— 5 

0, minstrel Harp, still must thine accents sleep? 

Mid rustling leaves and fountains murmuring. 

Still must thy sweeter sounds their silence keep. 

Nor bid a warrior smile, nor teach a maid to weep? 

Not thus, in ancient days of Caledon, 10 

Was thy voice mute amid the festal crowd, 

1. Harp of the Xorth. The harp was the national 
musical instrument of Scotland in early days. Scott is 
addressing the harp because he intends to tell a story 
of ancient Scotland. In these first three stanzas, which 
I are an introduction to the entire poem, he is ex])ressim, 
his regret that the art of minstrelsy, the singing of snugs 
and telling of stories of brave deeds had disappeared from 
[l Scotland. 

|: 2. ^^aint Fillan's. A Scotch saint. Several wells and 

’! springs were dedicated to him, the waters of which were 
I believed to he powerful in cases of madness. 

! “Thence to Saint Fillan’s blessed well, 

Whose spring can frenzied dreams dispel. 

And the crazed brain restore.” 

— M armion. 

‘>. XumherH . Fcr.sc.y. 

10. Caledon. Caledonia is the name used often in 
poetry for Scotland. 






2 


The Lady of the Lake 


When lay of hopeless love, or glory won, 

Aroused the fearful, or subdued the proud. 

At each according pause, was heard aloud 
Thine ardent symphony sublime and high! 15 

Fair dames and crested chiefs attention bowed; 

For still the burthen of thy minstrelsy 
Was Knighthood’s dauntless deed, and Beauty’s 
matchless eye. 

0 wake once more 1 how rude soe’er the hand 

That ventures o’er thy magic maze to stray; 20 
0 wake once more! though scarce my skill command 
Some feeble echoing of thine earlier lay: ^ 

Though harsh and faint, and soon to die away. 

And all unworthy of thy nobler strain. 

Yet if one heart throb higher at its sway, 25 

The wizard note has not been touched in vain. 

Then silent be no more! Enchantress, wake again! 


The stag at eve had drunk his fill. 

Where danced the moon on Monan’s rill. 

And deep his midnight lair had made 30 

In lone Glenartney’s hazel shade: 

But, when the sun his beacon red 
Had kindled on Benvoirlich’s head, I 

The deep-mouthed blood-hound’s heavy bay 
Resounded up the rocky way, 3? 


Si.. Gtenartney, ,Glen means valley. Glenartney is 
the valley of the Artney. See map. 

S3. BenvoirUch. Mt. Voirlieh» Ben is the Gaelic word 
for tdduntain. See map> 





The Lady of the Lake 


3 


And faint, from farther distance borne, 
Were heard the clanging hoof and horn. 

II. 

As Chief, who hears his warder call, 

“To arms! the foemen storm the wall,”— 
The antlered monarch of the waste 
Sprung from his heathery couch in haste. 
But, ere his fleet career he took, 

The dew-drops from his flanks he shook; 
Like created leader proud and high. 

Tossed his beamed frontlet to the sky; 

A moment gazed adown the dale, 

A moment snuffed the tainted gale, 

A moment listened to the cry. 

That thickened as the chase grew nigh; 
Then, as the headmost foes appeared. 

With one brave bound the copse he cleared. 
And stretching forward free and far. 
Sought the wild heaths of Uam-Var. 

III. 

Yelled on the view the opening pack. 

Rock, glen, and cavern paid them back; 

To many a mingled sound at once 


45. Beamed frontlet. Forehead having branched horns. 

53. Vam-Var. “Ua-Var, as the name is pronounced, 
or more properly Uaigh-Mor, is a mountain to the north¬ 
east of the village of Callander in Menteith, deriving its 
name, which signifies the great den, or cavern, from a sort 
of retreat among the rocks on the south side, said by tra¬ 
dition to have been the abode of a giant.”—Scott. 

54. Ydlled on the view the opening pack. The dogs 
barked at sight of the game. 


40 

45 

50 

55 



The Lady of the Lake 


The awakened mountain gave response. 
An hundred dogs bayed deep and strong, 
Clattered a hundred steeds along, 

Their peal the merry horns rung out. 

An hundred voices joined the shout; 
With hark and whoop and wild halloo, 
No rest Benvoirlich’s echoes knew. 

Far from the tumult fled the roe. 

Close in her covert cowered the doe; 

The falcon, from her cairn on high, 

Cast on the rout a wondering eye. 

Till far beyond her piercing ken 
The hurricane had swept the glen." 
Faint, and more faint, its failing din 
Returned from cavern, cliff, and linn. 
And silence settled, wide and still. 

On the lone wood apd mighty hill. 

IV. 

Less loud the sounds of sylvan war 
Disturbed the heights of Uam-Var, 

And roused the cavern, where ’tis told 
A giant made his den of old; 

For ere that steep ascent was won. 

High in his path-way hung the sun. 

And many a gallant, stayed perforce. 

Was fain to breathe his faltering horse; 
And of the trackers of the deer 
Scarce half the lessening pack was near; 
So shrewdly, on the mountain-side. 

Had the bold burst their mettle tj-ied. 





The Lady of the Lake 


V. 


The noble stag was pausing now, 

Upon the mountain’s southern brow, 
Where broad extended, far beneath. 
The varied realms of fair Menteith. 
With anxious eye he wandered o’er 
Mountain and meadow, moss and moor. 
And pondered refuge from his toil, 

By far Lochard or Aberfoyle. 

But nearer was the copse-wood grey. 
That waved and wept on Loch-Achray, 
And mingled with the pine-trees blue 
On the bold cliffs of Benvenue. 

Fresh vigor with the hope returned. 
With flying foot the heath he spurned. 
Held westward with unwearied race. 
And left behind the panting chase. 


90 


95 


100 


VI. 

’T. were long to tell what steeds gave o’er. 
As swept the hunt through Cambus-more; 
What reins were tightened in despair, 
When rose Benledi’s ridge in air; 

Who flagged upon Bochastle’s heath, 

Who shunned to stem the flooded Teith,— 
For twice that day, from shore to shore. 
The gallant stag swam stoutly o’er. 

Few were the stragglers, following far. 


105 


110 


S9. Meiiieith. The district through which the river 
Teith flows. 

93. Lochard. iLoch is the Gaelic word for lake. See 
map for this and mountains, lakes, rivers, etc., named in 
staiizns following. 


6 


The Lady of the Lake 



THE BKKM; of TURK 











































The Lady of the Lake 7 

That reached the lake of Vennachar; 

And when the Brigg of Turk was won, 

The headmost horseman rode alone. 

VII. 

Alone, but with unbated zeal. 

That horseman plied the scourge and steel; 

For, jaded now, and spent with toil. 

Embossed with foam, and dark with soil, 

While every gasp with sobs he drew. 

The labouring stag strained full in view. 

Two dogs of black Saint Hubert's breed, 120 

Unmatched for courage, breath, and speed. 

Fast on his flying traces came. 

And all but won that desperate game; 

For, scarce a spear's length from his haunch. 
Vindictive toiled the blood-hounds stanch; 125 
Nor nearer might the dogs attain. 

Nor farther might the quarry strain. 

Thus up the margin of the lake. 

Between the precipice and brake. 

O'er stock and rock their race they take. 130 

VIII. 

The Hunter marked that mountain high. 

The lone lake's western boundary, 

And deemed the stag must turn to bay. 

Where that huge rampart barred the way; 

Already glorying in the prize, 135 

Measured his antlers with his eyes; 

For the death-wound, and death-halloo. 


112. Brigg of Turk. Brigg means bridge. 



8 


The Lady of the Lake 


Mustered his breath, his whinyard drew; 

But thundering as he came prepared, 

With ready arm and weapon bared, 

The wily quarry shunned the shock, 

And turned him from the opposing rock; 

Then, dashing down a darksome glen. 

Soon lost to hound and hunter ’3 ken. 

In the deep Trosachs’ wildest nook 145 

His solitary refuge took. 

There, while close couched, the thicket shed 
Cold dews and wild flowers on his head. 

He heard the baffled dogs in vain 

Rave through the hollow pass amain, 150 

Chiding the rocks that yelled again. 

IX. 

Close on the hounds the Hunter came. 

To cheer them on the vanished game; 

But, stumbling in the rugged dell. 

The gallant horse exhausted fell. 155 

The impatient rider strove in vain 
To rouse him with the spur and rein. 

For the good steed, his labours o’er. 

Stretched his stiff limbs to rise no more; 

Then, touched with pity and remorse, 100 

He sorrowed o’er the expiring horse. 

“I little thought, when first thy rein 
I slacked upon the banks of Seine, 

That Highland eagle e’er should feed 

On thy fleet limbs, my matchless steed! 105 

145. Trosachs'. “The term Trosacln signifies the rough 
or bristling territory.’’—Graham. 

103. Seme. A river in France. 



The Lady of the Lake 


Woe worth the chase, woe worth the day, 
That costs thy life, my gallant grey!” 

X. 

Then through the dell his horn resounds. 
From vain pursuit to call the hounds. 
Back limped, with slow and crippled pace. 
The sulky leaders of the chase; 

Close to their master’s side they pressed. 
With drooping tail and humbled crest; 
But still the dingle’s hollow throat 
Prolonged the swelling bugle-note. 

The owlets started from their dream, 

The eagles answered with their scream. 
Bound and around the sounds were cast. 
Till echo seemed an answering blast; 

And on the Hunter hied his way, 

To join some comrades of the day; 

Yet often paused, so strange the road, 

So wondrous were the scenes it showed. 

XI. 

The western waves of ebbing day 
Rolled o’er the glen their level way; 

Each purple peak, each flinty spire. 

Was bathed in floods of living Are. 

But not a setting beam could glow 
Within the dark ravines below. 

Where twined the path, in shadow hid, 
Round many a rocky pyramid. 

Shooting abruptly from the dell 
Its thunder-splintered pinnacle; 


10 


The Lady of the Lake 


Round many an insulated mass, 

The native bulwarks of the pass, 

Huge as the tower which builders vain 
Presumptuous piled on ShinaPs plain. 
The rocky summits, split and rent. 

Formed turret, dome, or battlement. 

Or seemed fantastically set 
With cupola or minaret. 

Wild crests as paged ever decked. 

Or mosque of Eastern architect. 

Nor were these earth-born castles bare. 
Nor lacked they many a banner fair; 

For, from their shivered brows displayed. 
Far o’er the unfathomable glade. 

All twinkling with the dew-drop sheen. 
The brier-rose fell in streamers green. 
And creeping shrubs, of thousand dyes. 
Waved in the west-wind’s summer sighs. 


195 


200 


205 


210 


XIL 

Boon nature scattered, free and wild, 

Each plant or flower, the mountain’s child. 

Here eglantine embalmed the air, 

Hawthorn and hazel mingled there; 215 

The primrose pale, and violet flower 
Found in each clift a narrow bower; 

Fox-glove and night-shade, side by side, 

Emblems of punishment and pride. 

Grouped their dark hues with every stain 220 

The weather-beaten craigs retain. 

With boughs that quaked at every breath 


197. Shinar's. See Genesis XI, 1-9, for the story of 
the tower of Babel. 



The Lady of the Lake 


11 


Grey birch and aspen wept beneath; 

Aloft, the ash and warrior oak 
Cast anchor in the rifted rock; 

And, higher yet, the pine-tree hung 
His shattered trunk, and frequent flung, 

Where seemed the cliffs to meet on high. 

His boughs athwart the narrowed sky. 
Highest of all, where white peaks glanced. 
Where glistening streamers waved and danced, 
The wanderer’s eye could barely view 
The summer heaven’s delicious blue; 

So wondrous wild, the whole might seem 
The scenery of a fairy dream. 

XIII. 

Onward, amid the copse, ’gan peep 
A narrow inlet, still and deep. 

Affording scarce such breadth of brim. 

As served the wild duck’s brood to swim; 

Lost for a space, through thickets veering. 

But broader when again appearing. 

Tall rocks and tufted knolls their face 
Could on the dark-blue mirror trace; 

And farther as the Hunter strayed. 

Still broader sweep its channels‘made. 

The shaggy mounds no longer stood. 

Emerging from entangled wood. 

But, wave-encircled, seemed to float, 

Like castle girdled with its moat. 

Yet broader floods extending still. 

Divide them from their parent hill, 

Till each, retiring, claims to be 
An islet in an inland sea. 


225 

230 

235 

240 

245 

250 


12 


The Lady of the Lake 


XIV. 


And now, to issue from the glen, 

No pathway meets the wanderer’s ken. 
Unless he climb, with footing nice, 

A far-projecting precipice. 

The broom’s tough roots his ladder made. 
The hazel saplings lent their aid; 

And thus an airy point he won. 

Where, gleaming with the setting sun. 

One burnished sheet of living gold. 

Lock Katrine lay beneath him rolled; 

In all her length far winding lay. 

With promontory, creek, and bay. 

And islands that, empurpled bright. 
Floated amid the livelier light. 

And mountains, that like giants stand. 

To sentinel enchanted land. 

High on the south, huge Benvenue 


255 


260 


265 


270 


Down on the lake in masses threw 

Crags, knolls, and mounds, confusedly hurled. 

The fragments of an earlier world; 

A wildering forest feathered o’er 
His -ruined sides and summit hoar. 

While on the north, through middle air, 

Benan heaved high his forehead bare. 


263. Loch Katrine. One of the loveliest of Scottish 
lakes. ‘‘Loch Ketterin is the Celtic proiinnciation. In 
his notes to The Fair Maid of Perth, the author has sig¬ 
nified his belief that the lake was named after the Cat- 
terins, or wild robbers, who haunted its shores.”—^Author’s 
Edition. 

277. Benan. “Little Mlountain.” 



The Lady of the Lake 


13 


XV. 

From the steep promontory gazed 
The Stranger, raptured and amazed, 

And, ‘‘What a scene were here,” he cried, 280 
‘‘For princely pomp or churchman’s pride! 

On this bold brow, a lordly t,ower; 

In the soft vale, a lady’s bower; 

On yonder meadow, far away. 

The turrets of a cloister grey. 285 

How blithely might the bugle-horn 
Chide, on the lake, the lingering morn! 

How sweet, at eve, the lover’s lute 
Chime, when the groves were still and mute! 
And, when the midnight moon should lave 290 
Her forehead in the silver wave, 

How solemn on the ear would come 
The holy matins’ distant hum, 

While the deep peal’s commanding tone 
Should wake in yonder islet lone, 

A sainted hermit from his cell. 

To drop a bead with every knell— 

And bugle, lute, and bell, and all. 

Should each bewildered stranger call 
To friendly feast, and lighted hall. 

XVI. 

‘‘Blithe were it then to wander here! 

But now,—beshrew yon nimble deer,— 

Like that same hermit’s, thin and spare, 

The copse must give my evening fare; 

Some mossy bank my couch must be. 

Some rustling oak my canopy. 

Yet pass we that;—the war and chase 


295 


300 


305 

, .j 


14 


The Lady of the Lake 


Give little choice of resting-place; — 

A summer night, in green-wood spent, 
Were but to-morrow’3 merriment; 

But host,s may in these wilds abound. 
Such as are better missed than found; 

To meet with Highland plunderers here 
Were worse than loss of steed or deer.-^ 
I am alone; — my bugle strain 
May call some straggler of the train; 

Or, fall the worst that may betide, 

Ere now this falchion has been tried.” 


310 


315 


XVII. 

But scarce again his horn he wound. 

When lo! forth starting at the sound, 

From underneath an aged oak. 

That slanted from the islet rock, 

A damsel guider of its way, 

A little skiff shot to the bay. 

That round the promontory steep 
Led its deep line in graceful sweep. 

Eddying, in almost viewless wave, 

The weeping willow twig to lave. 

And kiss, with whispering sound and slow, 
The beach of pebbles bright as snow. 

The boat had touched this silver strand, 

Just as the Hunter left his stand. 

And stood concealed amid the brake. 

To view this Lady of the Lake. 

The maiden paused, as if again 

She thought to catch the distant strain. 


320 


325 


330 


335 


313. Highland plunderers, 
landers and Borderers." 


See Introduction—‘‘High- 



The Lady of the Lake 


15 


With head up-raised, and look intent, 

And eye and ear attentive bent. 

And locks flung back, and lips apart. 

Like monument of Grecian art. 

In listening mood, she seemed to stand 
The guardian Naiad of the Mrand. 

XVIIL 

And ne’er did Grecian chisel trace 
A Nymph, a Naiad, or a Grace, 

Of finer form, or lovelier face! 

What though the sun, with ardent frown, 
Had slightly tinged her cheek with brown,— 
The sportive toil, which, short and light. 
Had dyed her glowing hue so bright. 

Served too in hastier swell to show 
Short glimpses of a breast of snow; 

What though no rule of courtly grace 
To measured mood had trained her pace,— 
A foot more light, a step more true. 

Ne’er from the heath-flower dashed the dew; 
E’en the slight hare-bell raised its head. 
Elastic from her airy tread: 

What though upon her speech there hung 
The accents of the mountain tongue,— 

Those silver sounds, so soft, so dear. 

The listener held his breatji to hear. 

XIX. 

A chieftain’s daughter seemed the maid; 
Her satin snood, her silken plaid, 

Her golden brooch, such birth betrayed. 

And SGldem was a snood amid 


340 

345 

350 

355 

360 

365 


16 


The Lady of the Lake 


Such wild luxuriant ringlets hid, 

Whose glossy black to shame might bring 
The plumage of the raven’s wing; 

And seldom o’er a breast so fair, 

Mantled a plaid with modest care. 

And never brooch the folds combined 
Above a heart more good and kind. 

Her kindness and her worth to spy, 

You need but gaze on Ellen’s eye; 

Not Katrine, in her mirror blue. 

Gives back the shaggy banks more true. 
Than every free-born glance confessed 
The guileless movements of her breast; 
Whether joy danced in her dark eye. 

Or woe or pity claimed a sigh. 

Or filial love was glowing there. 

Or meek devotion poured a prayer, 

Or tale of injury called forth 
The indignant spirit of the North. 

One only passion, , unrevealed. 

With maiden pride the maid concealed. 
Yet not less purely felt the flame;— 

0 need I tell that passion’s name! 

XX. 

Impatient of the silent horn. 

Now on the gale her voice was borne:— 
“Father!” she cried; the rocks around 
Loved to prolong the gentle sound. 

Awhile she paused, no answer came,— 
“Malcolm, was thine the blast?” the name 
Less resolutely uttered fell, 

The echoes could not catch the swell. 


370 

375 

380 

385 

390 

395 


The Lady of the Lake 


17 





r 73 


L()(’II KATKIXK 



























18 


The Lady of the Lake 


“A stranger I,” the Huntsman said, 
Advancing from the hazel shade. 

The maid, alarmed, with hasty oar 
Pushed her light shallop from the shore. 
And when a space was gained between, 
Closer she drew her bosoni’s screen; 

(So forth the starred swan would swing, 
So turn to prune his ruffled wing,) 

Then safe, though fluttered and amazed. 
She paused, and on the stranger gazed. 
Not his the form, nor his the eye. 

That youthful maidens wont to fly. 

XXL 

On his bold visage middle age 
Had slightly pressed its signet sage. 

Yet, had not quenched the open truth, 
And flery vehemence of youth; 

Forward and frolic glee was there. 

The will to do, the soul to dare. 

The sparkling glance, soon blown to fire. 
Of hasty love, or headlong ire. 

His limbs were cast in manly mould. 

For hardy sports, or contest bold; 

And though in peaceful garb arrayed. 
And weaponless, except his blade. 

His stately mien as well implied 
A high-born heart, a martial pride. 

As if a baron’s crest he wore. 

And sheathed in armour trod the shore. 
Slighting the petty need he showed. 

He told of his benighted road; 

His ready speech flowed fair and free. 


400 

405 

410 

415 

420 

425 


The Lady of the Lake 


19 


In phrase of gentlest courtesy; 

Yet seemed that tone, and gesture bland, 
Less used to sue than to command. 

XXII. 

A while the maid the stranger eyed, 

And, reassured, at length replied 
That Highland halls were open still 
To wildered wanderers of the hill. 

“Nor think you unexpected come 
To yon lone isle, our desert home; 

Before the heath had lost the dew, 

This morn, a couch was pulled for you; 
On yonder mountain’s purple head 
Have ptarmigan and heath-cock bled. 

And our broad nets have swept the mere, 
To furnish forth your evening cheer.”— 
“Now, by the rood, my lovely maid. 
Your courtesy hath erred,” he said; 

“No right have I to claim, misplaced. 

The welcome of expected guest. 

A wanderer, here by fortune tost. 

My way, my friends, my courser lost, 

I ne’er before, believe me, fair. 

Have ever drawn your mountain air. 

Till on this lakers romantic strand, 

I found a fay in Fairy Land.”— 

XXIII. 

“I well believe,” the maid replied. 

As her light skiff approached the side,— 
“I well believe, that ne’er before 
Your foot has trod Loch Katrine’s shore; 


430 

435 

440 

445 

450 

455 


20 


The Lady of the Lake 


But yet, as far as yesternight, 

Old Allan-bane foretold your plight,— 
A grey-haired sire, whose eye intent 
Was on the visioned future bent. 

He saw your steed, a dappled grey. 

Lie dead beneath the birchen way; 
Painted exact your form and mien. 
Your hunting suit of Lincoln green. 
That tasselled horn so gaily gilt. 

That falchion’s crooked blade and hilt. 
That cap with heron plumage trim. 

And yon two hounds so dark and grim. 
He bade that all should ready be 
To grace a guest of fair degree; 

But light I held his prophecy, 

And deemed it was my father’s horn, 
Whose echoes o’er the lake were borne.” 


4G0 


465 


470 


XXIV. 

The Stranger smiled:—“Since to your home 
A destined errant-knight, I come. 
Announced by prophet sooth and old, 
Doomed, doubtless, for achievement bold. 
I’ll lightly front each high emprise, 

For one kind glance of those bright eyes. 
Permit me, first, the task to guide 
Your fairy frigate o’er the tide.” 


475 


480 


458. Old Allan-hane foretold your plight. The old min¬ 
strel was believed to have the gift of looking into the 
future. 

464. Lincoln green. The color of cloth worn by the 
huntsmen of the Lowland. It was made in Lincoln. 

475. Errant-knight. Errant means wandering. Knights 
formerly wandered about searching adventure. 



The Lady of the Lake 


21 


The maid, with smile suppressed and sly, 

The toil unwonted saw him try; 

For seldom, sure, if e’er before, 

His noble hand had grasped an oar: 

Yet with main strength his strokes he drew. 
And o’er the lake the shallop flew; 

With heads erect, and whimpering cry. 

The hounds behind their passage ply. 

Nor frequent does the bright oar break 
The darkening mirror of the lake. 

Until the rocky isle they reach. 

And moor their shallop on the beach. 


XXV. 

The Stranger viewed the shore around; 
’T was all so close with copse-wood bound. 
Nor track nor path-way might declare 
That human foot frequented there. 

Until the mountain-maiden showed 
A clambering unsuspected road. 

That winded through the tangled screen, 
And opened on a narrow green. 

Where weeping birch and willow round 
With their long flbres swept the ground. 
Here, for retreat in dangerous hour. 
Some chief had framed a rustic bower. 


504. Here, for retreat in dangeroiiH hour, eto., “The 
Celtic chieftains whose lives were continually exposed to 
lieril, had usually, in the most retired spot of their domains, 
some place of retreat for the hour of necessity, which as 
circumstances would admit, was a tower, a cavern, or a 
rustic hut, in a strong or secluded situation.” Scott’s note. 



22 


The Lady of the Lake 


xxvi. 

It was a lodge of ample size, 

But strange of structure and device; 

Of such materials, as around 
The workman’^ hand had readiest found. 
Lopped of their boughs, their hoar trunks bared. 
And by the hatchet rudely squared. 

To give the walls their destined height. 

The sturdy oak and ash unite; 

While moss and clay and leaves combined 
To fence each crevice from t^e wind. 

The lighter pine-trees, over-head. 

Their ^lender length for rafters spread. 

And withered heath and rushes dry 
Supplied a russet canopy. 

Due westward, fronting to the green, 

A rural portico was seen. 

Aloft on native pillars borne. 

Of mountain fir with bark unshorn. 

Where Ellen’s hand had taught to twine 
The ivy and Idsean vine. 

The clematis, the favored flower 
Which boasts the name of virgin-bower. 

And every hardy plant could bear 
Loch Katrine’s keen and searching air. 

An instant in this porch she stayed. 

And gaily to the stranger said, 

“On heaven and on thy lady call. 

And enter the enchanted hall!’’— 

XXVII. 


510 

515 

520 

525 

530 


“My hope, my heaven, my trust must be. 
My gentle guide, in following thee.’’ 


535 


The Lady of the Lake 


23 


He crossed the threshold—and a clang 
Of angry steel that instant rang. 

To his bold brow his spirit rushed, 

But soon for vain alarm he blushed, 

When on the floor he saw displayed, 

Cause of the din, a naked blade 

Dropped from the sheath, that careless flung 

Upon a stag’s huge antlers swung, 

For all around, the walls to grace. 

Hung trophies of the fight or chase: 

A target there, a bugle here, 

A battle-axe, a hunting-spear. 

And broadswords, bows, and arrows store. 
With the tusked trophies of the boar. 

Here grins the wolf as when he died. 

And there the wild-cat’s brindle hide 
The frontlet of the elk adorns, 

Or mantles o’er the bison’s horns; 

Pennons and flags defaced and stained. 
That blackening streaks of blood retained, 
And deer-skins, dappled, dun, and white; 
With otter’s fur and seal’s unite, 

In rude and uncouth tapestry all, 

To garnish forth the sylvan hall. 

XXVIII. 

The wondering stranger round him gazed, 
And next the fallen weapon raised; 

Few were the arms whose sinewy strength 
Sufficed to stretch it forth at length. 

And as the brand he poised and swayed, 

“I never knew but one,” he said, 

‘Whose stalwart arm might brook to wield 


540 

545 

550 

555 

560 

565 


24 


The Lady of the Lake 


A blade like this in battle-field.” 

She sighed, then smiled, and took the word; 

“You see the guardian champion’s sword: 

As light it trembles in his hand, 570 

As in my grasp a hazel wand; 

My sire’s tall form might grace the part 
Of Ferragus, or Ascabart; 

But in the absent giant’s hold 

Are women now, and menials old.” 575 

XXIX. 

The Mistress of the mansion came. 

Mature of age, a graceful dame; 

Whose easy step’ and stately port 
Had well become a princely court. 

To whom, though more than kindred knew, 580 
Young Ellen gave a mother’s due. 

Meet welcome to her guest she made. 

And every courteous rite was paid. 

That hospitality could claim. 

Though all unasked his birth and name. 585 
Such then the reverence to a guest, 

573. Ferragus, Ascahart. According to Scott, fabled 
giants, two sons of Anak, about whom many stories have 
been told. 

580. To trhom, though more than kindred knew, etc. 
These lines seem difficult. They probably mean merely 
that Ellen, her own mother being dead, loved her aunt, 
Lady Margaret, as a mother. 

586. Such then the rercrcnce to a guest. --The High¬ 
landers, who carried hospitality to a punctilious excess, 
are .said to have considered it as churlish, to ask a stranger 
his name or lineage, before he had taken refreshment. 
Feuds were so frequent among them, that a contrary rule 
would in many cases have produced the discovery of some 



The Lady of the Lake 25 

That felle^t foe might join the feast, 

And from his deadliest foeman’s door 
Unquestioned turn, the banquet o’er. 

At length his rank the stranger names, 590 

“The Knight of Snowdoun, James Fitz-James; 
Lord of a barren heritage. 

Which his brave sires, from age to age, 

By their good swords had held with toil; 

His sire had fallen in such turmoil, 595 

And he, God wot, was forced to stand 
Oft for his right with blade in hand. 

This morning with Lord Moray’s train 
He chased a st,alwart stag in vain. 

Out-stripped his comrades, missed the deer, ^>00 
Lost his good steed, and wandered here.’’ 

XXX. 

Fain would the Knight in turn require 
The name and state of Ellen’s sire. 

Well showed the elder lady’s mien 

That courts and cities she had seen; 605 

Ellen, though more her looks displayed 

The simple grace of sylvan maid. 

In speech and gesture, form and face. 

Showed she was come of gentle race: 

’T were strange in ruder rank to find 610 

Such looks, such manners, and such mind. 

Each hint the Knight of Snowdoun gave. 

Dame Margaret heard with silence grave; 

Or Ellen, innocently gay. 

Turned all inquiry light away: 615 


circumstances, which might have excluded the guest from 
the benefit of the assistance he stood in need of.”—Scott. 



26 


The Lady of the Lake 


“Weird women we! by dale and down 
We dwell, afar from tower and town. 

We stem the flood, we ride the blast, 

On wandering knights our spells we cast; 
While viewless minstrels touch the string, 
’T is thus our charmed rhymes we sing.” 
She sung, and still a harp unseen 
Filled up the symphony bet,ween. 


XXXI. 


SONG • 

“Soldier, rest! thy warfare o‘’er. 

Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking; 
Dream of battled fields no more. 

Days of danger, nights of waking. 

In our isle’s enchanted hall. 

Hands unseen thy couch are st,rewing, 
Fairy strains of music fall. 

Every sense in slumber dewing. 

Soldier, rest! thy warfare o’er. 

Dream of fighting fields no more; 

Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking, 
Morn of toil, nor night of waking. 


“No rude sound shall reach thine ear, 
Armour’s clang, or war-steed champing. 
Trump nor pibroch summon here 

Mustering clan, or squadron tramping. 
Yet the lark’s shrill fife may come 
At the day-break from the fallow. 

And the bittern sound his drum. 
Booming from the sedgy shallow. 
Ruder sounds shall none be near. 


The Lady of the Lake 


27 


Guards nor warders challenge here, 

Here’s no war-steed’s neigh and champing, 
Shouting clans or squadrons stamping.” 


645 


XXXII. 

She paused—then, blushing, led the lay 
To grace the stranger of’the day. • 

Her mellow notes awhile prolong 
The cadence of the flowing song. 

Till to her lips in measured frame 
The minstrel verse spontaneous came. 

SONG CONTINUED 

“Huntsman, rest,! thy chase is done; 

While our slumbrous spells assail ye, 
Dream not, with the rising sun, 

Bugles here shall sound reveille. 
Sleep! the deer is in his den; 

Sleep! thy hounds are by thee lying; 
Sleep! nor dream in yonder glen 
How thy gallant steed lay dying. 
Huntsman, rest; thy chase is done; 
Think not of the rising sun. 

For at dawning to assail ye. 

Here no bugles sound reveille.” 


650 


655 


660 


665 


XXXHI. 

The hall was cleared—the stranger’s bed 
Was t^ere of mountain heather spread. 
Where oft an hundred guests had lain, 
And dreamed their forest sports again. 
But vainly did the hearth-flower shed 
Its moorland fragrance round his head; 


670 


28 


The Lady of the Lake 


Not Ellen’s spell had lulled to rest 
The fever of his troubled breast. 

In broken dreams the image rose 
Of varied perils, pains, and woe3; 

His steed now flounders in the brake, 

Now sinks his barge upon the lake; 

Now leader of a broken host, 

His standard falls, his honour’s lost;. 

Then,—from my couch may heavenly might 
Chase that worst phantom of the night!— 
Again returned the scenes of youth. 

Of confident undoubting truth; 

Again his soul he interchanged 

With friends whose hearts were long estranged. 

They come, in dim procession led. 

The cold, the faithless, and the dead; 

As warm each hand, each brow as gay. 

As if they parted yesterday. 

And doubt distracts him at the view, 

0 were his senses false or true! 

Dreamed he of death, or broken vow, 

Or is it all a vision now! 

XXXIV. 

At length, with Ellen in a grove 
He seemed to walk, and speak of love; 

She listened with a blush and sigh. 

His suit was warm, his hopes were high. 

He sought her yielded hand tp clasp. 

And a cold gauntlet met his grasp: 

The phantom’s sex was changed and gone, 
Upon its head a helmet shone; 

Slowly enlarged to giant size. 


675 

680 

685 

690 

695 

700 


The Lady of the Lake 


29 


With darkened cheek and threatening eyes, 
The grisly visage, stern and hoar, 

To Ellen still, a likeness bore.— 

He woke, and, panting with affright, 

Recalled the vision of the night. 

The hearth’s decaying brands were red. 

And deep and dusky lustre shed. 

Half showing, half concealing, all 
The uncouth trophies of the hall. 

Mid those the stranger fixed his eye 
Where that huge falchion hung on high. 

And thoughts on thoughts, a countless throng. 
Rushed, chasing countless thoughts along, 
Until, the giddy whirl t,o cure. 

He rose and sought the moon-shine pure. 

XXXV. 

The wild rose, eglantine, and broom 
Wasted around their rich perfume; 

The birch-trees wept in fragrant balm; 

The aspens slept' beneath the calm; 

The silver light, with quivering glance. 
Played on the water’s still expanse,— 

Wild were the heart whose passion’s sway 
Could rage beneath the sober ray! 

He felt its calm, that warrior guest. 

While thus he communed with his breast:— 
“Why is it at each turn I trace 
Some memory of that exiled race? 

Can I not mountain^maiden spy. 

But she must bear the Douglas eye? 

Can I not view a Highland brand, 

But it must match the Douglas hand? 


705 

710 

715 

720 

725 

730 


30 


The Lady of the Lake 


Can I not frame a fevered dreajn, 

But still the Douglas is the theme — 

ITl dream no more—by manly mind 
Not even in sleep is 'will resigned. 

My midnight orisons said o'er, 

ITl turn to rest, and dream no more."— 
His midnight orisons he told, 

A prayer with every bead of gold, 
Consigned to heaven his cares and woe*s. 
And sunk in undisturbed repose; 

Until the heath-cock shrilly crew, 

And morning dawned on Benvenue. 


735 

740 

745 


CANTO SECOND 


I. 

THE ISLAND 

At morn the black-cock trims his jetty wing, 

’T is morning prompts the linnet’s blithest lay, 

All Nature’s children feel the matin spring 
Of life reviving, with reviving day; 

And while yon little bark glides down the bay, ^ 
Wafting the stranger on his way again. 

Morn’s genial influence roused a Minstrel grey: 

And sweetly o’er the lake was heard thy strain. 

Mixed with the sounding harp, 0 white-haired Allan- 
bane! 


II. 

SONG 

“Not faster yonder rowers’ might 
Flings from their oars the spray. 

Not faster yonder rippling bright. 

That tracks the shallop’s course in light, 
Melts in the lake away. 

Than men from memory erase 
The benefits of former days; 

Then, Stranger, go! good speed the while, 
Nor think again of the lonely isle. 

“High place to thee in royal court. 

High place in battle line. 

Good hawk and hound for sylvan sport. 
Where beauty sees the brave resort. 

The honored meed be thine! 

True be thy sword, thy friend sincere, 
[31] 


32 


The Lady of the Lake 


Thy lady constant, kind and dear, 

And lost in love’s and friendship’^ smile, 
Be memory of the lonely isle! 

Ill 

SONG CONTINUED 

“But if beneath yon southern sky 
A plaided stranger roam. 

Whose drooping crest and stifled sigh. 

And sunken cheek and heavy eye 
Pine for his Highland home; 

Then, warrior, then be thine to show 
The care that soothes a wanderer’s woe; 
Remember then thy hap erewhile, 

A stranger in the lonely isle. 

“Or if on life’s uncertain main 
Mishap shall mar thy sail; 

If faithful, wise, and brave in vain, 

Woe, want, and exile thou sustain 
Beneath the fickle gale; 

Waste not a sigh on fortune changed. 

On thankless courts, or friends estranged! 
But come where kindred worth shall smile. 
To greet thee in the lonely isle.”— 

IV. 

As died the sounds upon the t,ide. 

The shallop reached the mainland side. 

And ere his onward way he took, 

The Stranger cast a lingering look. 

Where easily his eye might reach 
The harper on the islet beach. 


25 

30 

35 

40 

45 

50 


The Lady of the Lake 


33 


Reclined against a blighted tree, 

As wasted, grey, and worn as he. 

To minstrel meditation given, 

His reverend brow was raised to heaven. 
As from the rising sun to claim 
A sparkle of inspiring flame. 

His hand, reclined upon the wire. 

Seemed watching the awakening fire; 

So still he sate as those who wait 
Till judgment speak the doom of fate; 

So still, as if no breeze might dare 
To lift one lock of hoary hair; 

So still, as life itself were fled, 

In the last sound his harp had sped. 

V. 

Upon a rock with lichens wild. 

Beside him Ellen sate and smiled.— 
Smiled she to see the stately drake 
Lead forth his fleet upon the lake. 

While her vexed spaniel, from the beach. 
Bayed at the prize beyond his reach. 

Yet tell me, then, the maid who knows, 
Why deepened on her cheek the rose?— 
Forgive, forgive. Fidelity! 

Perchance the maiden smiled to see 
Yon parting lingerer wave adieu. 

And stop and turn to wave anew; 

And, lovely ladies, ere your ire 
Condemn the heroine of my lyre, 

Show me the fair would scorn to spy 
And prize such conquest of her eye! 

60. The odd form of sat. 


55 

60 

65 

70 

75 

80 



34 


The Lady of the Lake 


VI. 

While yet he loitered on the spot, 

It seemed as Ellen marked him not; 

But when he turned him to the glade, 

One courteous parting sign she made; 

And after, oft the Knight would say 
That not when prize of festal day 
Was dealt him by the brightest fair. 

Who e’er wore jewel in her hair. 

So highly did his bosom swell. 

As at that simple mute farewell. 

Now with a trusty mountain-guide, 

And his dark stag-hounds by his side. 

He parts—the maid, unconscious still. 
Watched him wind slowly round the hill; 
But when his stately form was hid. 

The guardian in her bosom chid— 

“Thy Malcolm! vain and selfish maid!” 
’T was thus ui^braiding conscience said, 
“Not so had Malcolm idly hung 
On the smooth phrase of Southern tongue; 
Not so had Malcolm strained his eye. 
Another step than thine to spy.— 

Wake, Allambane,” aloud she cried. 

To the old Minstrel by her side, 

“Arouse thee from thy moody dream! 
ril give thy harp heroic theme. 

And warm thee with a noble name; 

Pour forth the glory of the Graeme!”— 


85 


90 


95 


100 


105 


109. Graeme. “The ancient and powerful family of 
Graham (which for metrical reasons is here spelt after 
the Scottish pronunciation) held extensive possession in 
the counties of Dumbarton and Stirling. Few families can 




The Lady of the Lake 


35 


Scarce from her lip the word had rushed, HO 
When deep t,he conscious maiden blushed; 

For of his clan, in hall and bower, 

Young Malcolm Grseme was held the flower. 

VII. 

The Minstrel waked his harp — three times 
Arose the well-known martial chimes, 115 

And thrice their high heroic pride 
In melancholy murmurs died.— 

“Vainly thou bidst, 0 noble maid,” 

Clasping his withered hands, he said, 

; “Vainly thou bidst me wake the strain, 120 

L Though all unwont to bid in vain. 

I Alas! than mine a mightier hand 

r Has tuned my harp, my strings has spanned! 

? I touch the chords of joy, but low 
I And mournful answer notes of woe; 125 

: And the proud march, which victors tread, 

! Sinks in the wailing for the dead.— 

0 well for me, if mine alone 
i That dirge’s deep prophetic tone! 

, If, as my tuneful fathers said, 130 

' This harp, which erst Saint Modan swayed, 

, boast of more historical renown, having claim to three of 
rhe most remarkable characters in the Scottish annals.” 
—Scott. 

131. Modan. “I am not prepared to show that 

St. Modan was a performer on the harp. It \fas, however, 

A' no unsaintly accomplishment; for St. Dunstan certainly 
t (lid play upon that instrument, which retaining, as was 
natural, a portion of the sanctity attached to its master’s 
^ character, announced future events by its spontaneous 
if sound.” — Scott. 

rl 





36 


The Lady of the Lake 


Can thus its master’s fate foretell, 
Then welcome be the Minstrel’s knell! 


VIII. 


“But ah! dear lady, thus it sighed 
The eve thy sainted mother died; 

And such the sounds which, while I strove 
To wake a lay of war or love. 

Came marring all the festal mirth. 

Appalling me who gave them birth. 

And. disobedient to my call. 

Wailed loud through Bothwell’s bannered hall. 
Ere Douglases, to ruin driven. 

Were exiled from their native heaven.— 

O! if yet worse mishap and woe 
My master’s house must undergo. 

Or aught but weal to Ellen fair 
Brood in these accents of despair. 

No future bard, sad Harp! shall ding 
Triumph or rapture from thy string; 

One short, one final strain shall flow. 

Fraught with unutterable woe; 

Then shivered shall thy fragments lie. 

Thy master cast him down and die.”— 


135 


140 


145 


150 


141. Bothivell's bannered hall. A castle which be¬ 
longed to th^ Douglas family. It was situated near Glas¬ 
gow. 

142. Douglases, to ruin driven. The downfall of the 
Douglases of the house of Angus, during the reign of 
James V. is the event alluded to in the text. See Introduc¬ 
tion, “.lames V. of Scotland.” 



The Lady of the Lake 


37 


IX. 


Soothing she answered him, “Assuage, 

Mine honoured friend, the fears of age. 

All melodies to thee are known. 

That harp ha3 rung, or pipe has blown. 

In Lowland vale, or Highland glen. 

From Tweed to Spey—^what marvel, then, 

At times, unbidden notes should rise. 
Confusedly bound in memory’s ties. 
Entangling, as they rush along. 

The War-march wit,h the funeral song?— 
Small ground i^ now for boding fear; 

Obscure, but safe, we rest us here. 

My sire, in native virtue great. 

Resigning lordship, lands, and state, 

Not then to fortune more resigned 
Than yonder oak might give the wind; 

The graceful foliage storms may reave, 

The noble stem they cannot grieve. 

For me,”—she stooped, and, looking round. 
Plucked a blue hare-bell from the ground,— 
“For me, whose memory scarce conveys 
An image of more splendid days. 

This little flower, that loves the lea. 

May well my simple emblem be; 

It drinks heaven’s dew as blithe as rose 
That in the King’s own garden grows; 

And when I place it in my hair, 

Allan, a bard is bound to swear 
He ne’er saw coronet so fair.”— 

Then playfully the chaplet wild 

She wreathed in her dark locks, and smiled. 


155 


160 


165 


170 


175 


180 


38 


The Lady of the Lake 


X. 

Her smile, her speech, with winning sway, 185 
Wiled the old Harper’s mood away. 

With such a look as hermits throw 
When angels stoop to soothe their woe, 

He gazed, t,ill fond regret and pride 

Thrilled to a tear, then thus replied:— 1^^ 

“Loveliest and best! thou little know’st 

The rank, the honours thou hast lost! 

0 might I live to see t,hee grace, 

In Scotland's court, thy birth-right place; 

To see my favourite’s step advance, 

The lightest in the courtly dance, 

The cause of every gallant's sigh. 

And leading star of every eye. 

And theme of every minstrel's art. 

The Lady of the Bleeding Heart!"— 200 

XL 

“Fair dreams are these," the maiden cried, 

(Light was her accent, yet she sighed), 

“Yet is this mossy rock to me 
Worth splendid chair and canopy; 

Nor would my footstep spring more gay 205 

In courtly dance than blithe strathspey, 

Nor half so pleased mine ear incline 
To royal minstrel's lay as thine; 

And then for suitors proud and high, 

200. The Lady of the Bleeding Heart. The emblem of 
the Douglas family bore a red heart. Robert Bruce on his 
deathbed gave to James Douglas instructions that his 
heart be borne to Jerusalem. The bleeding heart was 
then chosen as their heraldic emblem by the Douglases. 



The Lady of the Lake 


39 


To bend before my conquering eye, 

Thou, flattering bard! thyself wilt say 
That grim Sir Roderick owns its sway. 
The Saxon scourge, Clan-Alpine’s pride, 
The terror of Loch Lomond’s side. 
Would, at my suit, thou know’st, delay 
A Lennox foray—for a day.”— 


XII. 

The ancient Bard her glee repressed: 

“Ill hast thou chosen theme for jest! 

For who, through all this western wild. 
Named Black Sir Roderick e’er, and smiled! 
In Holy-Rood a knight he slew; 

I saw, when back the dirk he drew. 
Courtiers give place before the stride 
Of the undaunted homicide; 

And since, though outlawed, hath his hand 
Full sternly kept his mountain land. 

Who else dared give,—ah! woe the day. 
That I such hated truth should say— 

The Douglas, like a stricken deer. 

Disowned by every noble peer. 

Even the rude refuge we have here? 

Alas, this wild marauding chief 
Alone might hazard our relief. 

And now thy maiden charms expand. 
Looks for his guerdon in thy hand; 


216. Lennox foray. A raid into Lennox, territory lying 
south of Loch Lomond. 

221. Holy-Rood. The royal castle at Edinburgh. 



40 


The Lady of the Lake 


Full soon may dispensation sought. 

To back his suit, from Rome be brought. 

Then, though an exile on the hill. 

Thy father, as the Douglas, still 

Be held in reverence and fear; 240 

And though to Roderick thou’rt so dear. 

That thou mightst guide with silken thread. 

Slave of thy will, this chieftain dread. 

Yet, 0 loved maid, thy mirth refrain! 

Thy hand is on a lion’s mane.”— 245 

XIII. 

“Minstrel,” the maid replied, and high 
Her father’s soul glanced from her eye, 

“My debts to Roderick’s house I know; 

All that a mother could bestow. 

To Lady Margaret’s care I owe, 250 

Since first an orphan in the wild 
She sorrowed o’er her sister’s child; 

To her brave chieftain son, from ire 
Of Scotland’s king who shrouds my sire, 

A deeper, holier debt is owed; 255 

And, could I pay it with my blood, 

Allan! Sir Roderick should command 
My blood, my life,—but not my hand. 

Rather will Ellen Douglas dwell 
A votaress in Maronnon’s cell; 260 

236. Full soon may dispensation, etc. It was neces¬ 
sary that Roderick secure the special permission of the 
Pope before he and Ellen could be married, as they were 
cousins. 

260. Maronnon's cell. “The parish of Kilmaronock, at 
the eastern extremity of Loch Lomond, derives its name 
from a cell or chapel, dedicated to St. Maronnon.”—'Scott. 



The Lady of the Lake 


41 


Rather through realms beyond the sea, 

Seeking the world’s cold charity, 

Where ne’er was spoke a Scottish word. 

And ne’er the name of Douglas heard, 

An outcast pilgrim will she rove, 265 

Than wed the man she cannot love. 

XIV. 

“Thou shak’st, good friend, thy tresses grey— 
That pleading look, what can it say 
But what I own?—I grant him brave. 

But wild as Bracklinn’s thundering wave; 

And generous—save vindictive mood. 

Or jealous transport, chafe his blood: 

I grant him true to friendly band, 

As his claymore is to his hand; 

But 0! that very blade of steel 
More mercy for a foe would feel: 

I grant him liberal, to fling 
Among his clan the wealth they bring, 

When back by lake and glen they wind. 

And in the Lowland leave behind. 

Where once some pleasant hamlet stood, 

A mass of ashes slaked with blood. 

The hand that for my father fought, 

I honour, as his daughter ought; 

But can I clasp it reeking red. 

From peasants slaughtered in their shed? 
iNo! wildly while his virtues gleam, 

270. Bracklhin's. “This is a beautiful cascade made by 
a mountain stream called the Keltic, at a place called the 
Bridge of Bracklinn, about a mile from the village of 
Callander in Menteith.” — Scott. 


270 


275 


280 


285 



42 


The Lady of the Lake 


They make his passions darker seem, 

And flash along his spirit high, 

Like lightning oi’er the midnight sky. 
While yet a child,—and children know. 
Instinctive taught, the friend and foe,— 

I shuddered at his brow of gloom, 

His shadowy plaid, and sable plume; 

A maiden grown, I ill could bear 
His haughty mien and lordly air, 

But, if thou join’st a suitor’s claim. 

In serious mood, to Roderick’s name, 

I thrill with anguish! or, if e’er 
A Douglas knew the word, with fear. 

To change such odious theme were best,— 
What think’st thou of our stranger guest?” 


290 


295 


300 


XV. 

“What think I of him?—woe the while 
That brought such wanderer to our isle! 
Thy father’s battle-brand, of yore 
For Tine-man forged by fairy lore. 

What time he leagued, no longer foes. 
His Border spears with Hotspur’s bows. 
Did, self-unscabbarded, foreshow 
The footsteps of a secret foe. 

If courtly spy hath harboured here, 


305 


310 


306. Tine^man. ‘■Areliibald, the third Earl of Doujilas, 
was so unfortunate in all his enterprises, that he acquired 
the epithet of Tine-man, because he fined, or lost, his fol¬ 
lowers in every battle which he fought.’’—Scott. 

308. Hotspur's hows. Douglas with his Scottish spear¬ 
men had formed an alliance with Percy, or Hotspur, and 
his English bowmen. The story of this rebellion is told 
by Shakespeare in his Henry IV. 



The Lady of the Lake 


43 


What may we for the Douglas fear? 

What for this island, deemed of old 
Clan-Alpine’s last and surest hold? 

If neither spy nor foe, I pray 
What yet may jealous Roderick say? 

—Nay, wave not thy disdainful head! 
Bethink thee of the discord dread. 

That kindled when at Beltane game 
Thou ledst the dance with Malcolm Graeme; 
Still, though thy sire the peace renewed. 
Smoulders in Roderick’s breast the feud; 
Beware!—^But hark, what sounds are these? 
My dull ears catch no faltering breeze. 

No weeping birch, nor aspens wake. 

Nor breath is dimpling in the lake. 

Still is the canna’s hoary beard. 

Yet, by my minstrel faith, I heard— 

And hark again! some pipe of war 
Sends the bold pibroch from afar.”— 

XVL 

Far up the lengthened lake were spied 
Four darkening specks upon the tide. 

That, slow enlarging on the view. 

Four manned and masted barges grew. 
And bearing downwards from Glengyle, 
Steered full upon the lonely isle; 

The point of Brianchoil they passed. 

And, to the windward as they cast. 
Against the sun they gave to shine 


315 

320 

325 

330 

335 


319, Beltane. May-day. 



44 The Lady of the Lake 

The bold Sir Roderick’s bannered Pine. 
Nearer and nearer as they bear, 

Spears, pikes, and axes flash in air. 

Now might you see the tartans brave. 

And plaids and plumage dance and wave; 
Now see the bonnets sink and rise. 

As his tough oar the rower plies; 

See, flashing at each sturdy stroke. 

The wave ascending into smoke; 

See the proud pipers on the bow. 

And mark the gaudy streamers flow 
From their loud chanters down, and sweep 
The furrowed bosom of the deep. 

As, rushing through the lake amain. 

They plied the ancient Highland strain. 


XVII. 

Ever, as on they bore, more loud 355 

And louder rung the pibroch proud. 

At first the sound, by distance tame. 

Mellowed along the waters came. 

And, lingering long by cape and bay. 

Wailed every harsher note away; 360 

Then bursting bolder on the ear. 

The clan’s shrill Gathering they could hear; 

Those thrilling sounds, that call the might 
Of old Clan-Alpine to the fight. 

Thick beat the rapid notes, as when 365 

The mustering hundreds shake the glen, 

340. Sir Roderick's hanncred Pine. The pine tree was 
the emblem of Clan-Alpine. 

362. OatJie7dng. The signal cry which announced the 
gathering of the clan or called the men together. 



The Lady of the Lake 


45 


And hurrying at the signal dread, 

The battered earth returns their tread. 
Then prelude light, of livelier tone. 
Expressed their merry marching on, 

Ere peal of closing battle rose. 

With mingled out-cry, shrieks, and blows; 
And mimic din of stroke and ward. 

As broadsword upon target jarred; 

And groaning pause, ere yet again, 
Condensed, the battle yelled amain; 

The rapid charge, the rallying shout. 
Retreat borne headlong into rout. 

And bursts of triumph, to declare 
Clan-Alpine’s conquest—all were there. 
Nor ended thus the strain; but slow. 

Sunk in a moan prolonged and low. 

And changed the conquering clarion swell. 
For wild lament o’er those that fell. 

XVIII. 

The war-pipes ceased; but lake and hill 
Were busy with their echoes still; 

And, when they slept, a vocal strain 
Bade their hoarse chorus wake again. 
While loud a hundred clans-men raise 
Their voices in their Chieftain’s praise 
Each boat-man, bending to his oar. 

With measured sweep the burthen bore. 

In such wild cadence, as the breeze 
Makes through December’s leafless trees, 
The chorus first could Allan know, 


370 

375 

380 

385 

390 

395 


46 


The Lady of the Lake 


“Roderigh Vich Alpine, ho! iro!” 

And near, and nearer as they rowed, 

Distinct the martial ditty flowed. 

XIX. 

BOAT SONG 

Hail to the Chief who in triumph advances! 

Honored and blessed be the ever-green Pine! 400 
Long may the tree in his banner that glances. 
Flourish, the shelter and grace of our line! 
Heaven send it happy dew, 

Earth lend it sap anew, 

Gaily to bourgeon, and broadly to grow, 405 
While every Highland glen 
Sends our shout back again, 

‘Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho, ieroe!”— 

Ours is no sapling, chance-sown by the fountain. 

Blooming at Beltane, in winter to fade; 410 

When the whirlwind has stripped every leaf on the 
mountain. 

The more shall Clan-Alpine exult in her shade. 
Moored in the rifted rock. 

Proof to the tempest’s shock. 

Firmer he roots him the ruder it blow; 415 

Menteith and Breadalbane, then. 

Echo his praise again, 

“Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho! ieroe!” 


396. Roderigh Vich Alpine. Black Roderick, son of 
Alpine. Dhu means black. Vich signifies the son of. 

406. Again. The old form a gen is used in the 1830 
edition. 



The Lady of the Lake 


47 


XX. 

Proudly our pibroch has thrilled in Glen Fruin, 

And Bannochar’s groans to our slogan replied; 420 
Glen Luss and Ross-dhu, they are smoking in ruin, 

And the best of Loch Lomond lie dead on her side. 
Widow and Saxon maid 
Long shall lament our raid 
Think of Clan-Alpine with fear and with woe; 425 

Lennox and Leven-glen 
Shake when they hear again, 


“Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho! ieroe!”— 

Row, vassals, row, for the pride of the Highlands! 

Stretch to your oars for the ever-green Pine! 430 
O! that the rose-bud that graces yon islands. 

Were wreathed in a garland around him to twine! 

0 that some seedling gem, 

Worthy such noble stem. 

Honoured and blest in their shadow might grow! 435 
Loud from Clan-Alpine then 
Ring from her deepmost glen, 

“Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho! ieroe!”— 

XXL 

With all her joyful female band. 

Had Lady Margaret sought the strand. 

Loose on the breeze their tresses flew, 

And high their snowy arms they threw. 

As echoing back with shrill acclaim. 

And chorus wild, the Chieftain’s name; 

While, prompt to please, with mother’s art. 


44(5 


445 


431. 01 that the rose-hud, etc. The reference here is 

to Ellen. 



The Lady of the Lake 


The darling passion of his heart, 

The Dame called Ellen to the strand, 

To greet her kinsman ere he land:— 
“Coime,, loiterer, come! a Douglas thou. 

And shun to wreathe a victor’s brow ?”— 
Reluctantly and slow the maid 
The unwelcome summoning obeyed, 

And, when a distant bugle rung, 

In the mid-path aside she sprung:— 

“List, Allan-bane! From mainland cast, 

I hear my father’s signal blast. 

Be ours,” she cried, “the skiff to guide. 
And waft him from the mountain side.”— 
Then, like a sun-beam, swift and bright. 
She darted to her shallop light. 

And, eagerly while Roderick scanned. 

For her dear form, his mother^s band, - 
The islet far behind her lay. 

And she had landed in the bay. 

XXII. 

Some feelings are to mortals given. 

With less of earth in them than heaven; 

And if there be a human tear 

From passion’s dross refined and clear, 

A tear so limpid and so meek. 

It would not stain an angel’s cheek, 

’T is that which pious fathers shed 
Upon a duteous daughter’s head! 

And as the Douglas to his breast 
His darling Ellen closely pressed. 

Such holy drops her tresses steeped. 
Thought ’t was an hero’s eye that weeped. 


The Lady of the Lake 


49 


Nor while on Ellen’s faltering tongue 
Her filial welcomes crowded hung, 
parked she, that fear, (affection’s proof) 

Still held a graceful youth aloof; 480 

No! not till Douglas named his name. 

Although the youth was Malcolm Graeme. 

XXIII. 

Allan, with a wistful look the while, 

Marked Roderick landing on the isle; 

His master piteously he eyed, 485 

Then gazed upon the Chieftain’s pride, 

Then dashed, with hasty hand, away 
From his dimmed eye the gathering spray; 

And Douglas, as his hand he laid 
On Malcolm’s shoulder, kindly said, 490 

“Canst thou, young friend, no meaning spy 
In my poor follower’s glistening eye? 

I’ll tell thee:—he recalls the day, 

When in my praise he led the lay 

O’er the arched gate of Bothwell proud, 495 

While many a minstrel answered loud. 

When Percy’s Norman pennon, won 
In bloody field, before me shone. 

And twice ten knights, the least a name 
As mighty as yon Chief may claim, 500 

Gracing my pomp, behind me came. 

Yet trust me, Malcolm, not so proud 
Was I of all that marshalled Crowd, 


497. Percy's Norman yennon. Percy’s Norman pennon 
was captured by the ancestor of Douglas. It became a 
family trophy. 



50 


The Lady of the Lake 


Though the waned crescent owned my might, 
And in my train trooped lord and knight, 
Though Blantyre hymned her holiest lays. 
And BothwelTs bard flung back my praise. 

As when this old man’s silent tear. 

And this poor maid’s affection dear, 

A welcome give more kind and true, 

Than aught my better fortunes knew. 
Forgive, my friend, a father’s boast; 

0! it ouLbeggars all I lost I” 


XXIV. 


Delightful praise!—like summer rose. 
That brighter in the dew-drop glows. 
The bashful maiden’s cheek appeared. 
For Douglas spoke, and Malcolm heard. 
The flush of shame-faced joy to hide. 

The hounds, the hawk, her cares divide; 
The loved caresses of the maid 
The dog with crouch and whimper paid; 
And, at her whistle, on her hand 
The falcon took his favourite stand. 
Closed his dark wing, relaxed his eye, 
Nor, though unhooded, sought to fly. 


504. W\aned crescent. “Sir Walter Scott of Buccleuch, 
whose shield bore a crescent moon, had endeavored to set 
the king free from the Douglases, but had been defeated 
by them. His failure is hence called the waning of the 
crescent.”—Yonge. 

506. Blantyre. A priority or closter near Bothwell 
Castle. 

525. Unhooded. The falcon’s eyes were kept covered 
until time to release him in search of prey. He usually 
did not sit quietly when unhooded. 



The Lady of the Lake 


51 


And, trust, while in 3 uch guise she stood. 
Like fabled Goddess of the Wood, 

That if a fatherfs partial thought 
O’erweighed her worth and beauty aught. 
Well might the lover’s judgment fail 
To balance with a juster scale; 

For with each secret glance he stole, 

The fond enthusiast ^ent his soul. 


XXV. 


Of stature fair, and slender frame, 

But firmly knit, was Malcolm Graeme. 

The belted plaid and tartan hose 
Did* ne’er more graceful limbs disclose; 

His flaxen hair, of sunny hue. 

Curled closely round his bonnet blue. 

Trained to the chase, his eagle eye 
The ptarmigan in snow could spy; 

Each pass, by mountain, lake, and heath. 

He knew, through Lennox and Menteith; 

Vain was the bound of dark-brown doe. 

When Malcolm bent his sounding bow. 

And scarce that doe, though winged with fear. 
Outstripped in speed the mountaineer; 

Right up Benlomond could he press. 

And not a sob his toil confess. 

His form accorded with a mind 
Lively and ardent, frank and kind; 

A blither heart, till Ellen came, 

Did never love nor sorrow tame; 

It danced as lightsome in his breast. 


555 


540 


545 


550 


527. Goddess. The reference may be to Diana, god¬ 
dess of the hunt. 



52 


The Lady of the Lake 


As played the feather on his crest. 

Yet friends, who nearest knew the youth, 
His scorn of wrong, his zeal for truth, 

And bards, who saw his features bold. 
When kindled by the tales of old. 

Said, were that youth to manhood grown, 

INlot long should Roderick Dhu’s renown 
Be foremost voiced by mountain fame. 

But quail to that of Malcolm Graeme. 

XXVI. 

And back they wend their watery way. 

And, “0 my sire!” did Ellen say, 

“Why urge thy chase so far astray? 

And why so late returned? And why”— 
The rest was in her speaking eye. 

“My child, the chase I follow far, 

’T is mimicry of noble war; 

And with that gallant pastime reft 
Were all of Douglas I have left. 

I met young Malcolm as I strayed 
Far eastward, in Glenfinlas’s shade, 

Nor strayed I safe, for, all around. 

Hunters and horsemen scoured the ground. 
This youth, though still a royal ward. 
Risked life and land to be my guard. 

And through the passes of the wood 
Guided my steps, not unpursued; 

And Roderick shall his welcome make. 
Despite old spleen, for Douglas’s sake. 


577. Royal ward. Malcolm, not yet of age, was un 
der the guardianship of the court. 


555 

560 

565 

570 

575 

580 

i- 



The Lady of the Lake 


53 


Then must he seek Strath-Endrick glen, 
Nor peril aught for me again.”— 

XXVIL 

Sir Roderick, who to meet them came. 
Reddened at sight of Malcolm Grseme, 

Yet, not in action, word, or eye. 

Failed aught in hospitality. 

In talk and sport they whiled away 
The morning of that summer day; 

But at high noon a courier light 
Held secret parley with the knight, 

Whose moody aspect soon declared 
That evil were the news he heard. 

Deep thought seemed toiling in his head; 
Yet was the evening banquet made, 

Ere he assembled round the flame 
His mother, Douglas, and the Graeme, 

And Ellen too; then cast around * 

His eyes, then fixed them on the ground. 

As studying phrase that might avail 
Best to convey unpleasant tale. 

Long with his dagger hilt he played. 

Then raised his haughty brov/, and said:— 

XXVIII. 

“Short be my speech;—nor time affords. 
Nor my plain temper, glozing words. 
Kinsman and father,—if such name 
Douglas vouchsafe to Roderick’s claim; 
Mine honoured mother; Ellen—why. 

My cousin, turn away thine eye?— 

And Graeme; in whom I hope to know 


585 

590 

595 

600 

605 

610 


54 


The Lady of the Lake 


Full soon a noible friend or foe, 

When age shall give thee thy command, 

And leading in thy native land,— 

List all!—the King’s vindictive pride 
Boasts to have tamed the Border-side, 

Where chiefs with hound and hawk who came 
To share their monarch’s sylvan game. 
Themselves in bloody toils were snared, 

And when the banquet they prepared. 

And wide their loyal portals flung, 

O’er their own gate-way struggling hung. 
Loud cries their blood from Meggat’s mead, 
From Yarrow braes, and banks of Tweed, 
Where the lone streams of Ettrick glide. 

And from the silver Teviot’s side; 

The dales, where martial clans did ride. 

Are now one sheep-walk waste and wide. 
This tyrant of the Scottish throne. 

So faithleSs, and so ruthless known, 

Now hither comes; his end the same. 

The same pretext of sylvan game. 

What grace for Etighland Chiefs, judge ye 
By fate of Border chivalry. 

Yet more! amid Glenflnlas’s green, 

Douglas, thy stately form was seen. 

This by espial sure I know: 

Your counsel in the streight I show.”— 


G15 


620 


625 


630 


635 


616. Boasts to have tamed the Border-side. Both the 
Highlanders and the Lowlanders claimed the Border ter¬ 
ritory. See Introduction, “Highlanders and Borderers.” 

623-625. Meggat, Yarrow, Tweed, Ettrick. Rivers ,in 
the southern part of Scotland. Meggat, Yarrow, and Et¬ 
trick are tributaries of the Tweed. 



The Lady of the Lake 


55 


XXIX. 


Ellen and Margaret fearfully 
Sought comfort in each other’s eye, 

Then turned their ghastly look, each one, 
This to her sire, that to her son. 

The hasty colour went and came 
In the bold cheek of Malcolm Graeme; 

,But from his glance it well appeared, 

’T was but for Ellen that he feared; 

While, sorrowful, but undismayed. 

The Douglas thus his counsel'said: — 
“Brave Roderick, though the tempest roar, 
It may but thunder and pass o’er; 

Nor will I here remain an hour, 

To draw the lightning on thy bower; 

For well thou know’st, at this grey head 
The royal bolt were fiercest sped. 

For thee, who, at thy King’s command, 
Canst aid him with a gallant band. 
Submission, homage, humbled pride 
Shall turn the Monarch’s wrath aside. 

Poor remnants of the Bleeding Heart, 
Ellen and I will seek, apart, 

The refuge of some forest cell; 

There, like the hunted quarry, dwell. 

Till, on the mountain and the moor. 

The stern pursuit be passed and o’er.” — 


G40 


645 


650 


655 


660 


XXX. 

“No, by mine honour,” Roderick said, 

“So help me Heaven, and my good blade! 
No, never! Blasted be yon pine. 


The Lady of the Lake 


My fathers’ ancient crest, and mine, 

If from its shade in danger part 

The lineage of the Bleeding Heart! 670 

Hear my blunt speech: grant me this maid 

To wife, thy counsel to mine aid; 

To Douglas, leagued with Roderick Dhu, 

Will friends and allies flock enow; 

Like cause of doubt, distrust, and grief, 675 

Will bind to us each Western Chief. 

When the loud pipes my bridal tell. 

The Links of Forth shall hear the knell. 

The guards shall start in Stirling’s porch; 

And, when I light the nuptial torch, 680 

A thousand villages in flames 

Shall scare the slumbers of King James! 

—Nay, Ellen, blench not thus away. 

And, mother, cease these signs, I pray; 

I meant not all my heat might say.— 

Small need of inroad, or of fight. 

When the sage Douglas may unite 
Each mountain clan in friendly band, 

To guard the passes of their land, 

Till the foiled King, from pathless glen, 690 

-Shall bootless turn him home again.”— 

XXXI. 

There are who have, at midnight hour, 

In slumber scaled a dizzy tower, 

And, on the verge that beetled o’er 

The ocean-tide’s incessant roar, 695 

Dreamed calmly out their dangerous dream. 


678. Links of Forth. Windings of the river Forth. 



The Lady of the Lake 


57 


Till wakened by the morning beam; 

When, dazzled by the eastern glow, 

Such startler cast his glance below. 

And saw unmeasured depth around. 

And heard unintermitted sound, 

And thought the battled fence so frail. 

It waved like cobweb in the gale;— 

Amid his senses’ giddy wheel. 

Did he not desperate impulse feel, 

Headlong to plunge himself below. 

And meet the worst his fears foreshow?— 
Thus, Ellen, dizzy and astound. 

As sudden ruin yawned around, 

By crossing terrors wildly tossed. 

Still for the Douglas fearing most, 

Could scarce the desperate thought withstand, 
To buy his safety with her hand. 

XXXIL 

Such purpose dread could Malcolm spy 
In Ellen’s quivering lip and eye. 

And eager rose to speak—but ere 
His tongue could hurry forth his fear. 

Had Douglas marked the hectic strife. 

Where death seemed combating with life; 

For to her cheek, in feverish flood. 

One instant rushed the throbbing blood. 

Then ebbing back, with sudden sway. 

Left its domain as wan as clay. 

“Roderick, enough! enough!” he cried, 

“My daughter cannot be thy bride; 

Not that the blush to wooer dear, 

Nor paleness that of maiden fear. 


700 

705 

710 

715 

720 

725 


The Lady of the Lake 


It may not be—forgive her, Chief, 

Nor hazard aught for our relief. 

Against his sovereign, Douglas ne’er 
Will level a rebellious spear. 

’T was I that taught his youthful hand 
To rein a steed and wield a brand; 

I see him yet, the princely boy! 

Not Ellen more my pride and joy; 

I love him still, despite my wrongs. 

By hasty wrath, and slanderous tongues. 

0 seek the grace you well may find. 
Without a cause to mine combined.”— 

XXXIII. 

Twice through the hall the Chieftain strode; 
The waving of his tartans broad. 

And darkened brow, where wounded pride 
With ire and disappointment vied. 

Seemed, by the torch’s gloomy light. 

Like the ill Demon of the night. 

Stooping his pinions’ shadowy sway 
Upon the nighted pilgrim’s way: 

But, unrequited Love! thy dart 
Plunged deepest its envenomed smart. 

And Roderick, with thine anguish stung. 

At length the hand of Douglas wrung. 
While eyes, that mocked at tears before. 
With bitter drops were running o’er. 

The death-pangs of long-cherished hope 
Scarce in that ample breast had scope. 

But, struggling with his spirit proud. 
Convulsive heaved its checkered shroud. 
While every sob—so mute were all— 


The Lady of the Lake 


59 


Was heard distinctly through the hall. 

The son’s despair, the mother’s look, 

Ill might the gentle Ellen brook; 

She rose, and to her side there came, 

To aid her parting steps, the Graeme. 

XXXIV. 

Then Roderick from the Douglas broke— 

As flashes flame through sable smoke. 
Kindling its wreaths, long, dark, and low, 
To one broad blaze of ruddy glow, 

So the deep anguish of despair 
Burst, in fierce jealousy, to air. 

With stalwart grasp his hand he laid 
On Malcolm’s breast and belted plaid: 
“Back, beardless boy!” he sternly said; 
“Back, minion! holdst thou thus at naught 
The lesson I so lately taught? 

This roof, the Douglas, and that maid. 
Thank thou for punishment delayed.”— 
Eager as greyhound on his game. 

Fiercely with Roderick grappled Graeme. 
“Perish my name, if aught afford 
Its chieftain safety, save his sword!”— 
Thus as they strove, their desperate hand 
Gripped to the dagger or the brand,’ 

And death had been—but Douglas rose. 
And thrust between the struggling foes 
His giant strength:—“Chieftains, forego! 

I hold the first who strikes, my foe.— 
Madmen, forbear your frantic jar! 

What! is the Douglas fallen so far, 

His daughters hand is deemed the spoil 


760 

765 

770 

775 

780 

785 


60 The Lady of the Lake 

Of such dishonourable broil!”— 

Sullen and slowly they unclasp, 

As struck with shame, their desperate grasp. 
And each upon his rival glared. 

With foot advanced and blade half-bared. 

XXXV. 

Ere yet the brands aloft were flung, 

Margaret on Roderick’s mantle hung, 

And Malcolm heard his Ellen’s scream. 

As faltered through terrific dream. 

Then Roderick plunged in sheath his sword. 
And veiled his wrath in scornful word. 

“Rest safe till morning; pity ’t were 
Such cheek should feel the midnight air! 
Then mayst thou to James Stuart tell, 
Roderick will keep the lake and fell. 

Nor lackey, with his free-born clan. 

The pageant pomp of earthly man. 

More would he of Clan-Alpine know, 

Thou canst our strength and passes show.— 
Malise, what ho!”—his hench-man came; 
“Give our safe-conduct to the Graeme.” 
Young Malcolm answered, calm and bold, 
“Fear nothing for thy favourite hold; 

The spot, an angel deigned to grace. 

Is blessed, though robbers haunt the place. 
Thy churlish courtesy for those 
Reserve, who fear to be thy foes. 

As safe to me the mountain way 
At midnight, as in blaze of day, 


790 

795 

800 

805 

810 

815 


805. Nor lackey, with his freehorn clan. Roderick and 
his wen will not become servile followers of the King. 



The Lady of the Lake 


61 


Though with his boldest at his back 

Even Roderick Dhu beset the track, — 820 

Brave Douglas,—lovely Ellen,—nay, 

Naught here of parting will I say. 

Earth does not hold a lonesome glen. 

So secret, but we meet again.— 

Chieftain! we too shall find an hour.’’ — 825 

He said, and left the sylvan bower. 

XXXVI. 

Old Allan followed to the strand, 

(Such was the Douglas’s command). 

And anxious told, how, on the 'morn. 

The stern Sir Roderick deep had sworn 830 

The Fiery Cross should circle o’er 
Dale, glen, and valley, down, and moor. 

Much were the peril to the Graeme, 

831. The Fiery Crosf<. “When a chieftain designed to 
summon his clan upon any sudden or important emer¬ 
gency, he slew a goat, and making a cross of any light 
wood, seared its extremities in the fire, and extinguished 
them in the blood of the animal. This was called the 
Fiery Cross, also Crean Tarigh or the Cross of Shame. 
because disobedience to what the symbol implied, inferred 
infamy. It was delivered to a swift and trusty messen¬ 
ger, who ran full speed with it to the next hamlet, where 
he presented it to the principal person with a single word, 
implying the place of rendezvous. He who received the 
symbol was bound to send it forward, with equal despatch, 
to the next village; and thus it passed with incredible celeri¬ 
ty through all the district which owed allegiance to the 
chief, and also among his allies and neighbours if the 
danger was common to them. At sight of the Fiery Cross, 
every man, from sixteen years old to sixty, capable of 
bearing arms, was obliged instantly to repair, in his best 
arms and accoutrements, to the place of rendezvous. He 



62 


The Lady of the Lake 


835 


From those who to the signal came; 

Far up the lake ’t were safest land, 

Himself would row him to the strand. 

He gave his counsel to the wind, 

While Malcolm did, unheeding, bind, 

Round dirk and pouch and broadsword rolled, 

His ample plaid in tightened fold, 840 

And stripped his limbs to such array. 

As best might suit the watery way. 


XXXVII. 

Then spoke abrupt: “Farewell to thee. 
Pattern of old fidelity!”— 

The minstrel’s hand he kindly pressed,— 
“Oh! could I point a place of rest! 

My sovereign holds in ward my land. 

My uncle leads my vassal band; 

To tame his foes, his friends to aid, 

Poor Malcolm has but heart and blade. 

Yet, if there be one faithful Grseme, 

Who loves the Chieftain of his name. 

Not long shall honoured Douglas dwell. 
Like hunted stag in mountain cell; 

Nor, ere yon pride-swollen robber dare,— 
I may not give the rest to air! 

Tell Roderick Dhu I owed him naught, 
Not the poor service of a boat. 

To waft me to yon mountain-side.”— 
Then plunged he in the hashing tide. 


845 


850 


855 


860 


who failed to appear suffered the extremities of fire and 
sword, which were emblematically denounced to the diso¬ 
bedient by the bloody and burnt marks upon this warlike 
signal.”—Scott. 



The Lady of the Lake 


Bold (^’er the flood his head he bore, 
And stoutly steered him from the shore; 
And Allan strained his anxious eye, 

Far mid the lake his form to spy. 
Darkening across each puny wave, 

To. which the moon her silver gave, 
Fast as the cormorant could swim. 

The swimmer plied each active limb; 
Then landing in the moonlight dell. 
Loud shouted of his weal to tell. 

The Minstrel heard the far halloo. 

And joyful from the shore withdrew. 


CANTO THIRD. 


I. 

THE GATHERING 

Time rolls his ceaseless course. The race of yore, 

Who danced our infancy upon their knee, 

And told our marvelling boy-hood legends stofe. 

Of their strange ventures happed by land or sea, 
How' are they blotted from the things that be! 5 

How few, all weak and withered of their force. 

Wait on the verge of dark eternity, 

Like stranded wrecks, the tide .returning hoarse. 

To sweep them from our sight! Time rolls his 
ceaseless course. 

Yet live there still who can remember well, 10 

How, when a mountain chief his bugle blew. 

Both field and forest, dingle, cliff, and dell, 

And solitary heath, the signal knew; 

And fast the faithful clan around him drew. 

What time the warning note was keenly wound, 15 
What time aloft their kindred banner flew. 

While clamorous war-pipes yelled the gathering sound. 
And while the Fiery Cross glanced, like a meteor, round. 


II. 

The summer dawn’s reflected hue 

To purple changed Loch Katrine blue; 20 

Mildly and soft the western breeze 

Just kissed the lake, just stirred the trees, 

And the pleased lake, like maiden coy, 


18. Fiery Cross. See note Canto II, line 831. 
[64] 



The Lady of the Lake 


65 


Trembled but dimpled not for joy; 

The mountain shadows on her breast 
Were neither broken nor at rest; 

In bright uncertainty they lie, 

Like future joys to Fancy’s eye. 

The water-lily to the light 

Her chalice reared of silver bright; 

The doe awoke, and to the lawn. 
Begemmed with dew-drops, led her fawn; 
The grey mist left the mountain-side. 

The torrent showed its glistening pride; 
Invisible in flecked sky. 

The lark sent down her revelry; 

The blackbird and the speckled thrush 
Good-morrow gave from brake and bush; 
In answer cooed the cushat dove, 

Her notes of peace, and rest, and love. 

HI. 

No thought of peace, no thought of rest, 
Assuaged the storm in Roderick’s breast. 
With sheathed broadsword in his hand. 
Abrupt he paced the islet strand. 

And eyed the rising sun, and laid 
His hand on his impatient blade. 

Beneath a rock, his vassals’ care 
Was prompt the ritual to prepare. 

With deep and deathful meaning fraught; 
For such Antiquity had taught 
Was preface meet, ere yet abroad 
The Cross of Fire should take its road. 
The shrinking band stood oft aghast 

50. Antiquity. Olden times. 


25 

30 

35 

40 

45 

50 



66 


The Lady of the Lake 


At the impatient glance he cast;— 

Such glance the mountain eagle threw, 

As from the cliffs of Benvenue, 

She spread her dark sails on the wind, 
And, high in middle heaven reclined. 

With her broad shadow on the lake. 
Silenced the warblers of the brake. 

IV. 

A heap of withered boughs was piled. 

Of juniper and rowan wild. 

Mingled with shivers from the oak, 

Rent by the lightning’s recent stroke. 
Brian, the Hermit, by it stood, 
Bare-footed, in his frock and hood. 

His grizzled beard and matted hair 
Obscured a visage of despair; 

His naked arms and legs, seamed o’er. 
The scars of frantic penance bore. 

That Monk, of savage form and face, 

The impending danger of his race 
Had d]‘awn from deepest solitude, 

Far in Benharrow’s bosom rude. 

Not his the mien of Christian priest, 

But Druidr’s, from the grave released. 
Whose hardened heart and eye might brook 
On human sacrifice to look; 

And much, ’t was said, of heathen lore 
Mixed in the charms he muttered o’er. 
The hallowed creed gave only worse 
And deadlier emphasis of curse; 


55 

60 

65 

70 

75 

80 


76. Druid.. An ancieoit Celtic priest. 

81. The hallowed creed. The Christian creed. 



The Lady of the Lake 


No peasant sought that Hermit’s prayer, 
His cave the pilgrim shunned with care, 
The eager huntsman knew his bound, 

And in mid chase called off his hound; 

Or if, in lonely glen or strath, 

The desert-dweller met his path. 

He prayed, and signed the cross between, 
While terror took devotion’s mien. 

V. 

Of Brian’s birth strange tales were told: 
His mother watched a midnight fold, 

Built deep within a dreary glen. 

Where scattered lay the bones of men. 

In some forgotten battle slain, 

And bleached by drifting wind and rain. 

It might have tamed a warrior’s heart. 

To view such mockery of his art! 

The knot-grass fettered there the hand. 
Which once could burst an iron band; 
Beneath the broad and ample bone. 

That bucklered heart to fear unknown, 

A feeble and a timorous guest, 

The field-fare are framed her lowly nest; 
There the slow blind-worm left his slime 
On the fleet limbs that mocked at time; 
And there, too, lay the leader’s skull. 

Still wreathed with chaplet flushed and full, 
For heath-bell, with her purple bloom. 
Supplied the bonnet and the plume. 

All night, in this sad glen, the maid 
Sate shrouded in her mantle’s shade: 

'—She said no shepherd sought her side, 


68 The Lady of the Lake 

No hunter’s hand her snood untied, 

Yet ne’er again to braid her hair 
The virgin snood did Alice wear; 

Gone was her maiden glee and sport, 

Her maiden girdle all too short. 

Nor sought she, from that fatal night. 

Or holy church or blessed rite, 

But locked her secret in her breast, 

And died in travail, unconfessed. 

VI. 

Alone, among his young compeers, 

Was Brian from his infant years; 

A moody and heart-broken boy, 

Estranged from sympathy and joy. 

Bearing each taunt which careless tongue 
On his mysterious lineage flung. 

Whole nights he spent by moonlight pale. 

To wood and stream his hap to wail, 

Till, frantic, he as truth received 
What of his birth the crowd believed. 

And sought, in mist and meteor fire, 

To meet and know his Phantom Sire! 

In vain, to soothe his wayward fate. 

The cloister oped her pitying gate; 

In vain, the learning of the age 
Unclasped the sable-lettered page! 

Even in its treasures he could find 
Food for the fever of his mind. 

Eager he read whatever tells 
Of magic, cabala, and spells. 

And every dark pursuit allied 
To curious and presumptuous pride; 


115 

120 

125 

130 

135 

140 





The'Lady of th^T Lake 


69 


Till with fired brain and nerves o’erstrung, 145 
And heart with mystic horrors wrung, 

Desperate he sought Benharrow’s den, 

And hid him from the haunts of men. 

VIL 

The de 3 ert gave him visions wild. 

Such as might suit the spectre’s child. 150 

Where with black cliffs the torrents toil, 

He watched the wheeling eddies boil, 

Till, from their foam, his dazzled eyes 
Beheld the river demon rise; 

The mountain mist took form and limb 155 

Of noontide hag, or goblin grim; 

The midnight wind came wild and dread. 

Swelled with the voices of the dead; 

Far on the future battle heath 

His eye beheld the ranks of death; 160 

Thus the lone Seer, from mankind hurled. 

Shaped forth a disembodied world. 

One lingering sympathy of mind 
Still bound him to the mortal kind; 

The only parent he could claim 165 

154. River Demon. “The River Demon, or River-horse, 
for it is that form which he commonly assumes, is the 
Kelpy of the Lowlands, an evil and malicious spirit, de¬ 
lighting to forebode and to witness calamity. He fre¬ 
quents most Highland lakes and rivers.”—Scott. 

15(j. Noontide hoy. “A tall, emaciated, gigantic tigure, 
supposed in particular to haunt the district of Knoidart.” 

—Scott. 

156. Oohlin gnm. “A goblin dressed in antique ar¬ 
mour and having one hand covered with blood, called from 
that circumstance Red-hand, is a tenant of the forest of 
Glenmore and Rothiemurcus.”—Scott. 



70 


The Lady of the Lake 


Of ancient Alpine’s lineage came. 

Late had he heard, in prophet’s dream, 

The fatal Ben-Shie’s boding scream; 

Sounds, too, had come in midnight blast. 

Of charging steeds, careering fast 
Along Benharrow’s shingly side. 

Where mortal horseman ne’er might ride; 

The thunderbolt had split the pine,— 

All augured ill to Alpine’s line. 

He girt his loins, and came to show 175 

The signals of impending woe. 

And now stood prompt to bless or ban. 

As bade the chieftain of his clan. 

VIII. 

’T was all prepared;—and from the rock, 

A goat, the patriarch of the flock, 180 

Before the kindling pile was laid, 

And pierced by Roderick’s ready blade. 


108. lien-8hie. “Tlie Baii-Schie implies a Female Fairy, 
whose lamentations were often supposed to precede the 
death of a chieftain of particular families. When she is 
visil)le it is in the form of an old woman, with a blue 
mantle and streaming hair.”—Scott. 

170. Where mortal horsemen ne'er might ride. ‘'A 
presage of the kind alluded to in the text, is still believed 
to announce death to the ancient Highland family of 
M'Lean of Lochbuy. The spirit of an ancestor slain in 
battle is heard to gallop along a stony bank, and then to 
ride thrice around the family residence, ringing his fairy 
luddle. and thus intimating the approaching calamity. How 
easily the eye as well as the ear may be deceived upon 
such occasions, is evident from the stories of armies in 
the air, and other spectral phenomena, with which history 
abounds.”—Scott. 





The Lady of the Lake 


71 


Patient the sickening victim eyed 
The life-blood ebb in crimson tide, 

Down his clogged beard and shaggy limb, 185 
Till darkness glazed his eyeballs dim. 

The grisly priest, with murmuring prayer, 

A slender crosslet formed with care, 

A cubit’s length in measure due; 

The shaft and limbs were rods of yew, 190 

Whose parents in Inch-Calliach wave 
Their shadows o’er Clan-Alpine’s grave. 

And, answering Lomond’s breezes deep. 

Soothe many a chieftain’s endless sleep. 

The Cross, thus formed, he held on high, 195 
With wasted hand and haggard eye, 

And strange and mingled feelings woke. 

While his anathema he spoke. 

IX. 

“Woe to the clans-man, who shall view 
This symbol of sepulchral yew, 

Forgetful that its branches grew 
Where weep the heavens their holiest dew 
On Alpine’s dwelling low! 

Deserter of his Chieftain’s trust. 

He ne’er shall mingle with their dust. 

But, from his sires and kindred thrust. 

Each clans-man’s execration just 
Shall doom him wrath and woe.” 


191. Jnch-Ga'lUach. An island at the lower extremity 
of Loch Lomond. The name, according to Scott, means 
Isle of Nuns or of Old Women. 

200. Sepulchral yew. The yew trees were often found 
in churchyards or cemeteries. 


200 


205 



72 


The Lady of the Lake 


He paused;—the word the vassals took, 
With forward step and fiery look, 

On high their naked brands they shook, 
Their clattering targets wildly strook, 

And first in murmur low, 

Then, like the billow in his course. 

That far to seaward finds his source, 

And flings to shore his mustered force. 
Burst, with loud roar, their answer hoarse, 
“W,oe to the traitor, woe!” 

Benan’s grey scalp the accents knew. 

The joyous wolf from covert drew, 

The exulting eagle screamed afar,— 

They knew the voice of Alpine’s war. 

X. 

The shout was hushed on lake and fell, 

The Monk resumed his muttered spell. 
Dismal and low its accents came. 

The while he scathed the Cross with flame; 
And the few words that reached the air. 
Although the holiest name Was there. 

Had more of blasphemy than prayer. 

But when he shook above the crowd 
Its kindled points, he. spoke aloud:— 

“Woe to the wretch, who fails to rear 
At this dread sign the ready spear! 

For, as the flames this symbol sear. 

His home, the refuge of his fear, 

A kindred fate shall know; 

Far o’er its roof the volumed flame 
Clan-Alpine’s vengeance shall proclaim, 


210 

215 

220 

225 

230 

235 


212. Strook. The old form of struck. 



The Lady of the Lake 


73 


While maids and matrons on his name 
Shall call down wretchedness and shame, 240 
And infamy and woe.*’ 

Then rose the cry of females, shrill 
As gos-hawk’s whistle on the hill. 

Denouncing misery and ill. 

Mingled with childhood’s babbling trill 245 

Of curses stammered slow; 

Answering, with imprecation dread, 

“Sunk be his home in embers red! 

And cursed be the meanest shed 
That e’er shall hide the houseless head, 250 

We doom to want and woe!” 

A sharp and shrieking echo gave, 

Coir-Uriskin, thy goblin cave! 

And the grey pass where birches wave. 

On Beala-nam-bo. 255 


XI. 

Then deeper paused the priest anew. 

And hard his labouring breath he drew. 
While, with set teeth and clenched hand. 
And eyes that glowed like fiery brand. 


253. Coir-UrLsk'in. “This is a very steep and most ro¬ 
mantic hollow in the mountains of Benvenue, overhanging 
the southeastern extremity of Loch Katrine. It is sur¬ 
rounded with stupendous rocks, and overshadowed with 
birch trees, mingled with oaks. * * * The name literally 
implies the Corri or Den, of the Wild or Shaggy Men.” — 
Scott. 

255. Beala-nmiirho. “Beala-nam-bo or the pass of cat¬ 
tle, is a most magnificent glade overhung with aged birch 
trees, a little higher up the mountain than the Coir-nan- 
Uriskin.”—Scott. 



74 


The Lady of the Lake 


He meditated curse more dread, 

And deadlier, on the clans-man’s head, 

Who, summoned to his Chieftain’s aid. 

The signal saw and disobeyed; 

The crosslet’s point of sparkling wood. 

He quenched among the bubbling blood. 

And, as again the sign he reared. 

Hollow and hoarse his voice was heard:— 

“When flits this cross from man to man, 
Vich-Alpine’s summons to his clan, 

Burst loe the ear that fails to heed! 

Palsied the foot that shuns to speed! 

May ravens tear the careless eyes. 

Wolves make the coward heart their prize! 

As sinks that blood-stream in the earth. 

So may his heart’s-blood drench his hearth! 

As dies in hissing gore the spark. 

Quench thou his light. Destruction dark! 

And be the grace to him denied, 

Bought by this sign to all beside!”— 

He ceased: no echo gave again 
The murmur of the deep Amen. 

XII. 

Then Roderick, with impatient look. 

From Brian’s hand the symbol took: 

“Speed, Malise, speed!” he said, and gave 
The crossiet to his hench-man brave. 285 

“The muster-place be Lanrick mead— 

Instant the time—speed, Malise, speed!” 

Like heath-bird, when the hawks pursue, 

A barge across Loch Katrine flew; 

High stood the hench-man on the prow, 290 


2G0 


2G5 


270 


275 


280 


The Lady of the Lake 


75 


So rapidly the barge-men row, 

The bubbles, where they launched the boat, 
Were all unbroken and afloat. 

Dancing in foam and ripple still. 

When it had neared the mainland hill; 

And from the silver beach’s side 
Still was the prow three fathom wide, 

When lightly bounded to the land. 

The messenger of blood and brand. 

XIII. 

Speed, Malise, speed! the dun deer’s hide 
On fleeter foot was never tied. 

Speed, Malise, speed! such cause of haste 
Thine active sinews never braced. 

Bend ’gainst the steepy hill thy breast. 
Burst down like torrent from its crest; 

With short and springing footstep pass 
The trembling bog and false morass; 

Across the brook like roe-buck bound. 

And thread the brake like questing hound; 
The crag is high, the scaur is deep. 

Yet shrink not from the desperate leap; 
Parched are thy burning lips and brow. 

Yet by the fountain pause not now; 

Herald of battle, fate, and fear. 

Stretch onward in thy fleet career! 

The wounded hind thou track’st not now, 
Pursuest not maid through greenwood bough. 
Nor pliest thou now thy flying pace. 

With rivals in the mountain race; 

But danger, death, and warrior deed 
Are in thy course — Speed, Malise, speed! 


295 

300 

305 

310 

315 

320 


76 


The Lady of the Lake 


XIV. 

Fast as the fatal symbol flies, 

In arms the huts and hamlets rise; 

From winding glen, from upland brown, 
They poured each hardy tenant down. 

Nor slacked the messenger his pace; 

He showed the sign, he named the place, 
And, pressing forward like the wind. 

Left clamour and surprise behind, 

The fisherman forsook the strand. 

The swarthy smith took dirk and brand; 
With changed cheer, the mower blithe 
Left in the half-cut swath his scythe; 
The herds without a keeper strayed. 

The plough was in mid-furrow stayed. 
The falconer tossed his hawk away, 

The hunter left the stag at bay; 

Prompt at the signal of alarms. 

Each son of Alpine rushed to arms; 

So swept the tumult and affray 
Along the margin of Achray. 

Alas, thou lovely lake! that e’er 
Thy banks should echo sounds of fear! 
The rocks, the bosky thickets, sleep 
So stilly on thy bosom deep. 

The lark’s blithe carol, from the cloud. 
Seems for the scene too gaily loud. 


325 

330 

335 

340 

345 




The Lady of the Lake 


XV. 

Speed, Malise, speed! The lake is past, 
Duncraggan’s huts appear at last. 

And peep, like moss-grown rocks, half-seen 
Half hidden in the copse so green; 

There mayst thou rest, thy labour done, 
Their lord shall speed the signal on.— 

As stoops the hawk upon his prey. 

The henchman shot him down the way. 

—What woeful accents load the gale? 

The funeral yell, the female wail! 

A gallant hunter’s sport is o’er, 

A valiant warrior fights no more. 

Who, in the battle or the chase, 

At Roderick’s side shall fill his place!— 
Within the hall, where torch’s ray 
Supplies the excluded beams of day. 

Lies Huncan on his lowly bier. 

And o’er him streams his widow’s tear. 

His stripling son stands mournful by, 

His youngest weeps, but knows not why; 
The village maids and matrons round 
The dismal coronach resound. 

XVI. 

CORONACH 

He is gone on the mountain. 

He is lost to the forest. 

Like a summer-dried fountain. 

When our need was the sorest. 

The font, re-appearing, 

From the rain-drops shall borrow, 


349. Duncraggan, See map. 



78 The Lady of the Lake 

But to us comes no cheering, 

To Duncan no morrow! 

The hand of the reaper 

Takes the ears that are hoary, 

But the voice of the weeper 
Wails manhood in glory; 

The autumn winds rushing 

Waft the leaves that are searest. 

But our flower was in flushing. 

When blighting was nearest. 

Fleet foot on the correi. 

Sage counsel in cumber. 

Red hand in the foray, 

How sound is thy slumber! 

Like the dew on the mountain. 

Like the foam on the river. 

Like the bubble on the fountain, 

Thou art gone, and forever! 

XVII. 

See Stumah, who, the bier beside. 

His master’s corpse with wonder eyed. 
Poor Stumah! whom his least halloo 
Could send like lightning o’er the dew. 
Bristles his crest, and points his ears. 

As if some stranger step he hears. 

’T is not a mourner’s muffled tread. 

Who comes to sorrow o’er the dead. 

But headlong haste, or deadly fear. 
Urge the precipitate career. 


380 

385 

390 

395 

400 


394. IStumah. Duncan's dog. The name means faith- 



The Lady of the Lake 


79 


All stand aghast:—unheeding all, 

The henchman bursts into the hall; 

Before the dead man’s bier he stood, 

Held forth the Cross besmeared with blood; 
“The muster place is Lanrick mead; 

Speed forth the signal! clans-men, speedb’ 

XVIII. 

Angus, the heir of Duncan’s line, 

Sprung forth and seized the fatal sign. 

In haste the stripling to his side 
His father’s dirk and broadsword tied; 

But when he saw his mother^’s eye 
Watch him in speechless agony, 

Back to her opened arms he flew, 

Pressed on her lips a fond adieu— 

“Alas!” she sobbed,—“and yet, be gone. 

And speed thee forth, like Duncan’s son!”— 
One look he cast upon the bier. 

Dashed from his eye the gathering tear. 
Breathed deep, to clear his labouring breast. 
And tossed aloft his bonnet crest. 

Then, like the high-bred colt, when freed 
First he essays his fire and speed. 

He vanished, and o’er moor and moss 
Sped forward with the Fiery Cross. 

Suspended was the widow’s tear. 

While yet his footsteps she could hear; 

And when she marked the henchman’s eye 
Wet with unwonted sympathy, 

“Kinsman,” she said, “his race is run. 

That should have sped thine errand on; 

The oak has fallen,—the sapling bough 


405 

410 

415 

420 

425 

430 


80 


The Lady of the Lake 

Is all Duncraggan’s 3 helter now. ^ 

Yet trust I well, his duty done, 

The orphan’s God will guard my son.— 

And you, in many a danger true, 

At Duncan’s best your blades that drew. 

To arms, and guard that orphan’s head! 

Let babes and women wail the dead.” 

Then weapon-clang, and martial call. 
Resounded through the funeral hall. 

While from the walls the attendant band 
Snatched sword and targe, with hurried hand; 
And short and flitting energy 
Glanced from the mourner’s sunken eye, 

As if the sounds to warrior dear 
Might rouse her Duncan from his bier. 

But faded soon that borrowed force; 

Grief claimed his right, and tears their course. 

XIX. 

Benledi saw the Cross of Fire, 

It glanced like lightning up Strath-Ire. 

O’er dale and hill the summons flew, 

■Nior rest nor pause young Angus knew; 

The tear, that gathered in his eye, 

He left the mountain-breeze to dry; 

Until, where Teith’s young waters roll. 
Betwixt him and a wooded knoll, 

That graced the sable strath with green. 

The chapel of Saint Bride was seen. 

Swoln was the stream, remote the bridge. 

But Angus paused not on the edge; 

Though the dark waves danced dizzily. 


435 

440 

445 

450 

455 

460 


463. Strath-Ire. See map. 



The Lady of the Lake 


81 


Though reeled his sympathetic eye, 465 

He dashed amid the torrent’s roar; 

His right hand high the crosslet bore, 

His left the pole-axe grasped, to guide 
And stay his footing in the tide. 

He stumbled twice—the foam splashed high, 470 
With hoarser swell the stream raced by; 

And had he fallen,—forever there. 

Farewell Duncraggan’s orphan heir! 

But still, as if in parting life, 

Firmer he grasped the Cross of strife. 

Until the opposing bank he gained. 

And up the chapel path-way strained. 

XX. 

A blithesome rout, that morning tide, 

Had sought the chapel of Saint Bride. 

Her troth Tombea’s Mary gave 
To Norman, heir of Armandave, 

And, issuing from the Gothic arch. 

The bridal now resumed their march. 

In rude, but glad procession, came 
Bonneted sire and coif-clad dame; 

And plaided youth, with jest and jeer. 

Which snooded maiden would not hear; 

And children, that, unwitting why. 

Lent the gay shout their shrilly cry; 

And minstrels, that in measures vied. 

Before the young and bonny bride. 

Whose downcast eye and cheek disclose 
The tear and blush of morning rose. 

With virgin step, and bashful hand. 

She held the kerchief’s snowy band. 


480 


485 


490 


495 


82 


The Lady of the Lake 


The gallant bridegroom, by her side, 
Beheld his prize with victor’s pride, 

And the glad mother in her ear 

Was closely whispering word of cheer. 

XXL 

Who meets them at the church-yard gate?— 
The messenger of fear and fate! 

Haste in his hurried accent lies. 

And grief is swimming in his eyes. 

All dripping from the recent flood. 

Panting and travel-soiled he stood. 

The fatal sign of Are and sword 

Held forth, and spoke the appointed word; 

“The muster-place is Lanrick mead. 

Speed forth the signal! Norman, speed!” 

And must he change so soon the hand. 

Just linked to his by holy band. 

For the fell Cross of blood and brand? 

And must the day, so blithe that rose. 

And promised rapture in the close. 

Before its setting hour divide 

The bridegroom from the plighted bride; 

0 fatal doom!—it must! it must! 
Clan-Alpine’s cause, her chieftain’s trust, 
Her summons dread, brook no delay; 

Stretch to the race—away! away! 

XXIL 

Yet slow he laid his plaid aside. 

And, lingering, eyed his lovely bride. 

Until he saw the starting tear 
Speak woe he might not stop to cheer; 


500 

505 

510 

515 

520 


The Lady of the Lake 


83 


Then trusting not a second look, 

In haste he sped him up the brook, 

Nor backward glanced till on the heath 
Where Lubnaig’s lake supplies the Teith. 

—What in the racer’s bosom stirred? 

The sickening pang of hope deferred. 

And memory, with a torturing train 
Of all his morning visions vain. 

Mingled with lovers impatience, came 
The manly thirst for martial fame; 

The stormy joy of mountaineers, 

Ere yet they rush upon the spears; 

And zeal for clan and chieftain burning. 

And hope, from well-fought field returning. 
With war’s red honours on his crest. 

To clasp his Mary to his breast. 

Stung by such thoughts, o’er bank and brae. 
Like fire from flint he glanced away. 

While high resolve, and feeling strong, 
Burst into voluntary song. 

XXIII. 

SONG 

The heath this night must be my bed. 

The bracken curtain for my head. 

My lullaby the warder’s tread. 

Far, far from love and thee, Mary; 
To-morrow eve, more stilly laid, 

M]y couch may be my bloody plaid, 

My vesper song, thy wail, sweet maid! 

It will not waken me, Mary! 


525 

530 

535 

540 

545 

550 


528. Luhnaig. See map. 



84 


The Lady of the Lake 


I may not, dare not, fancy now 
The grief that clouds thy lovely brow, 

I dare not think upon thy vow. 

And all it promised me, Mary! 

No fond regret must Norman know; 

When bursts Clan-Alpine on the foe, 

His heart must be like bended bow, 

His foot like arrow free, Mary. 

A time will come with feeling fraught! 
For, if I fall in battle fought. 

Thy hapless lover’s dying thought 
Shall be a thought on thee, Mary. 

And if returned from conquered foes. 

How blithely will the evening close. 

How sweet the linnet sing repose 
To my young bride and me, Mary! 

XXIV. 

No faster o’er thy heathery braes, 
Balquidder, speeds the midnight blaze. 
Rushing, in conflagration strong, 

Thy deep ravines and dells along. 
Wrapping thy cliffs in purple glow. 

And reddening the dark lakes below; 

Not faster speeds it, nor so far. 

As o’er thy heaths the voice of war. 

The signal roused to martial coil 
The sullen margin of Loch Voil, 

Waked still Loch Doine, and to the source 
Alarmed, Balvaig, thy swampy course; 
Thence southward turned its rapid road 
Adown Strath-Gartney’s valley broad. 


555 

560 

565 

570 

575 

580 


The Lady of the Lake 


85 


Till rose in arms each man might claim 
A portion in Clan-Alpine’s name; 

From the grey sire, whose trembling hand 
Could hardly buckle on his brand, 

To the raw boy, whose shaft and bow 
Were yet scarce terror to the crow. 

Each valley, each sequestered glen. 
Mustered its little horde of men, 

That met as torrents from the height 
In Highland dale^ their streams unite, 
Still gathering, as they pour along, 

A voice more loud, a tide more strong, 
Till at the rendezvous they stood 
By hundreds prompt for blows and blood; 
Each trained to arms since life began. 
Owning no tie but to his clan. 

No oath, but by his Chieftain’s hand. 

No law, but Roderick Dhu’s command. 

XXV. 

That summer morn had Roderick Dhu 
Surveyed the skirts of Benvenue, 

And sent his scouts o’er hill and heath. 
To view the frontiers of Menteith. 

AH backward came with news of truce; 
Still lay each martial Gr^me and Bruce, 
In Rednock courts no horsemen wait. 

No banner waved at Cardross gate. 

On Duchray’s towers no beacon shone, 
Nor scared the herons from Loch Con; 

All seemed at peace.—Now, wot ye why 

607-609. Rednock, Cardross, Duchray. These are 
of Scottish castles. 


585 

590 

595 

600 

605 

610 

names 



86 


The Lady of the Lake 


The Chieftain, with 3 uch anxious eye, 

Ere to the muster he repair. 

This western frontier scanned with care?— 

In Benvenue’s most darksome cleft, 

A fair, though cruel, pledge was left; 

For Douglas, to his promise true. 

That morning from the isle withdrew. 

And in a deep sequestered dell 

Had sought a low and lonely cell. 520 

By many a bard, in Celtic tongue. 

Has Coir-nan-Uriskin been sung, 

A softer name the Saxons gave. 

And called the grot the Goblin-cave. 

XXVI. 

It was a wild and strange retreat, 525 

As e’er was trod by outlaw’s feet. 

The dell, upon the mountain’s crest. 

Yawned like a gash on warrior’s breast; 

Its trench had stayed full many a rock. 

Hurled by primeval earthquake-shock 030 

From Benvenue’s grey summit wild. 

And here, in random ruin piled, 

They frowned incumbent o’er the spot. 

And formed the rugged sylvan grot. 

The oak and birch, with mingled shade, 635 

At noontide there a twilight made. 

Unless when short and sudden shone 
Some straggling beam on cliff or stone. 

With such a glimpse as prophet’s eye 

Gains on thy depth. Futurity. 640 


622, Coir-nan-Uriskin, See note Canto III, line 253, 



The Lady of the Lake 


87 


No murmur waked the solemn still, 

Save tinkling of a fountain rill; 

But when the wind chafed with the lake, 
A sullen sound would upward break. 
With dashing hollow voice, that spoke 
The incessant war of wave and rook. 
Suspended cliffs, with hideous sway. 
Seemed nodding o’er the cavern grey. 
From such a den the wolf had sprung. 

In such the wild-cat leaves her young; 
Yet Douglas and his daughter fair 
Sought for a space their safety there. 
Grey Superstition’s whisper dread 
Debarred the spot to vulgar tread; 

For there, she said, did fays resort. 

And satyrs hold their sylvan court. 

By moonlight tread their mystic maze. 
And blast the rash beholder’s gaze. 


G45 


G50 


G55 


XXVII. 

Now eve, with western shadows long. 
Floated on Katrine bright and strong. 
When Roderick, with a chosen few. 
Repassed the heights of Benvenue. 
Above the Goblin-cave they go. 

Through the wild pass of Beal-nam-bo; 
The prompt retainers speed before. 

To launch the shallop from the shore, 
For ’cross Loch Katrine lies his way 
To view the passes of Achray, 

And place his clans-men in array. 

Yet lags the Chief in musing mind, 
Unwonted sight, his men behind, 


GGO 


()G5 


670 


88 


The Lady of the Lake 


A single page, to bear his sword, 

Alone attended on his lord; 

The rest their way through thickets break, 
And soon await him by the lake. 

It was a fair and gallant sight. 

To view them from the neighbouring height. 
By the low-levelled sun-beam’s light; 

For strength and stature, from the clan 
Each warrior was a chosen man. 

As even afar might well be seen. 

By their proud step and martial mien. 

Their feathers dance, their tartans float. 
Their targets gleam, as by the boat 
A wild and warlike group they stand. 

That well became such mountain strand. 

XXVIII. 

Their Chief, with step reluctant, still 
Was lingering on the craggy hill. 

Hard by where turned apart the road 
To Douglas’s obscure abode. 

It was but with that dawning morn. 

That Roderick Dhu had proudly sworn 
To drown his love in war’s wild roar. 

Nor think of Ellen Douglas more; 

But he who stems a stream with sand. 

And fetters flame with flaxen band. 

Has yet a harder task to prove,— 

By firm resolve to conquer love! 

Eve finds the Chief, like restless ghost. 
Still hovering near his treasure lost; 

For though his haughty heart deny 

A parting meeting to his eye, 


075 

080 

685 

690 

695 

700 


The Lady of the I,are 


89 


Still fondly strains his anxious ear, 

The accents of her voice to hear, 

And inly did he curse the breeze 705 

That waked to sound the rustling trees. 

But hark! what mingles in the strain? 

It is the harp of Allan-bane, 

That wakes its measure slow and high. 

Attuned to sacred minstrelsy. 710 

What melting voice attends the strings? 

’T is Ellen, or an angel, sings. 

XXIX. 

HYMN TO THE VIRGIN 

Ave Maria I maiden mild! 

Listen to a maiden’s prayer! 

Thou canst hear though from the wild, 715 

Thou canst save amidst despair. 

Safe may we sleep beneath thy care. 

Though banished, outcast, and reviled— 
Maiden! hear a maiden’s prayer; 

Mother, hear a suppliant child! 720 

Ave Maria! 

Ave Maria! undefiled! 

The flinty couch we now must share 
Shall seem with down of eider piled. 

If thy protection hover there. 

The murky cavern’s heavy air 725 

Shall breathe of balm if thou hast smiled; 

Then, M^aiden! hear a maiden’s prayer, 

Mother, list a suppliant child! 

Ave Maria! 


713. Ave Maria. Hail Mary. The hymn or prayer is 
addressed to the Virgin Mary. 



90 


/ 

The Lady of the Lake 

Ave Maria! stainless styled! 

Foul demons of the earth and air, 

From this their wonted haunt exiled, 

Shall flee before thy presence fair. 

We bow us to our lot of care. 

Beneath thy guidance reconciled; 

Hear for a maid a maiden’s prayer. 

And for a father hear a child! 

Ave Maria! 


XXX. 

Died on the harp the closing hymn— 
Unmoved in attitude and limb. 

And listening still, Clan-Alpine’s lord 
Stood leaning on his heavy sword, 

Until the page, with humble sign, 

Twice pointed to the sun’s decline. 

Then while his plaid he round him cast, 
“It is the last time—’tis the last,” 

He muttered thrice,—“the last time e’er 
That angel-voice shall Roderick hear!”— 
It was a goading thought—his stride 
Hied hastier down the mountain-side; 
Sullen he flung him in the boat. 

An instant ’cross the lake it shot. 

They landed in that silvery bay, 

And eastward held their hasty way. 

Till with the latest beams of light. 

The band arrived on Lanrick height. 
Where mustered, in the vale below, 
Clan-Alpine’s men in martial show. 



735 


740 


745 


750 


755 


The Lady of the Lake 


91 


XXXI. 

A various scene the clans-men made, 

Some sate, some stood, some slowly strayed; 

But most, with mantles folded round. 

Were couched to rest upon the ground, 7(30 

Scarce to be known by curious eye. 

From the deep heather where they lie, 

So well was matched the tartan screen 
With heath-bell dark and brackens green; 

Unless where, here and there, a blade, 765 

Or lance’s point, a glimmer made. 

Like glow-worm twinkling through the shade. 

But when, advancing through the gloom. 

They saw the Chieftain’s eagle plume. 

Their shout of welcome, shrill and wide, 770 

Shook the steep mountain’s steady side. 

Thrice it arose, and lake and fell 
Three times returned the martial yell; 

It died upon Bochastle’s plain. 

And Silence claimed her evening reign. 775 


CANTO FOURTH 


1 . 

THE PROPHECY 

“The rose is fairest when T is budding new, 

And hope is brightest when it dawns from fears; 
The rose is sweetest washed with morning dew, 

And love is loveliest when embalmed in tears. 

0 wilding rose, whom fancy thus endears, 

I bid your blossoms in my bonnet wave, 

Emblem of hope and love through future years!” 
Thus spoke young Norman, heir of Armandave, 
What time the sun arose on Vennachar’s broad wave. 

II. 

Such fond conceit, half said, half sung. 

Love prompted to the bridegroom’s tongue. 

All while he stripped the wild-rose spray. 

His axe and bow beside him lay. 

For on a pass ’twixt lake and wood, 

A wakeful sentinel he stood. 

Hark!—on the rock a footstep rung. 

And instant to his arms he sprung. 

“Stand, or thou diest!—What, Malise?—soon 
Art thou returned from Braes of Doune. 

By thy keen step and glance I know. 

Thou bring’st us tidings of the foe.”— 

(For while the Fiery Cross hied on. 

On distant scout had Malise gone.) 

“Where sleeps the Chief?” the henchman said.— 
“Apart, in yonder misty glade; 

To his lone couch I’ll be your guide.”— 

Then called a slumberer by his side, 


5 

10 

15 

20 

25 


The Lady of the Lake 


93 


And stirred him with his slackened bow— 

“Up, up, Glentarkin! rouse thee, ho! 

We seek the Chieftain; on the track, 

Keep eagle watch till I come back.”— 

III. 

Together up the pass they sped: 

“What of the foeman?” Norman said.— 
“Varying reports from near and far; 

This certain,—that a band of war 
Has for two days been ready boune. 

At prompt command, to march from Doune; 
King James, the while, with princely powers. 
Holds revelry in Stirling towers. 

Soon will this dark and gathering cloud 
Speak on our glens in thunder loud. 

Inured to bide such bitter bout. 

The warrior’s plaid may bear it out; 

But, Norman, how wilt thou provide 
A shelter for thy bonny bride?”— 

“What! know ye not that Roderick’s care 
To the lone isle hath caused repair 
Each maid and matron of the clan. 

And every child and aged man 
Unfit for arms; and given his charge. 

Nor skiff nor shallop, boat nor barge. 

Upon these lakes shall float at large. 

But all beside the islet moor. 

That such dear pledge may rest secure?”— 

IV. 

“ ’T is well advised—the Chieftain’s plan 
Bespeaks the father of his clan. 


30 

35 

40 

45 

50 

55 


94 


The Lady of the Lake 


But wherefore sleeps Sir Roderick Dhu 
Apart from all his followers true?”— 

“it is because last evening-tide 
Brian an augury hath tried, 

Of that dread kind which must not be 
Unless in dread extremity, 

The Taghairm called; by which, afar,* 

Our sires foresaw the events of war. 
Duncraggan’s milk-white bull they slew.”— 

MALISE 

”Ah! well the gallant brute I knew! 

The choicest of the prey we had. 

When swept our merry-men Gallangad. 

His hide was snow, his horns were dark. 

His red eye glowed like fiery spark; 

So fierce, so tameless, and so fleet. 

Sore did he cumber our retreat. 

And kept our stoutest kerns in awe. 

Even at the pass of Beal 'maha. 

But steep and flinty was the road. 

And sharp the hurrying pikeman’s goad, 

(iP>. The Tafjhairnh “Tlie Higlilanders, like all rude 
])eople. had various superstitious modes of inquiring into 
futurity. One of the most noted was the Taghairm, men¬ 
tioned in the text. A person was wrapped up in the skin 
of a newly slain bullock, and deposited beside a waterfall, 
or at the bottom of a precipice, or in some other strange, 
wild, and unusual situation where the scenery around 
him suggested nothing hut objects of horror. In this situ¬ 
ation he revolved in his mind the question proposed ; and 
whatever was impressed upon him by his exalted imagina¬ 
tion. ivassed for the inspiration of the disembodied spirits, 
who haunt the desolate recesses.”—Scott. 

US. Gallangad. Not far from Loch Lomond. 

74. BeaVmaha. A pass east of Loch Lomond. 


60 

65 

70 

75 



The Lady of the Lake 95 

And when we came to Dennan’s Row, 

A child might scathless stroke his brow.”— 

V. 

NORMAN 

“The bull was slain: his reeking hide 
They stretched the cataract beside, 

Whose waters their wild tumult toss 
Adown the black and craggy boss 
Of that huge cliff, whose ample verge 
Tradition calls the Hero’s Targe. 

Couched on a shelve beneath its brink. 

Close where the thundering torrents sink. 
Rocking beneath their headlong sway. 

And drizzling by the ceaseless spray. 

Midst groan of rock, and roar of stream. 

The wizard waits prophetic dream. 

Nor distant rests the Chief;—but hush! 

See, gliding slow through mist and bush. 

The Hermit gains yon rock, and stands 
To gaze upon our slumbering bands. 

Seems he not, Malise, like a ghost. 

That hovers o’er a slaughtered host? 

Or raven on the blasted oak. 


77. Dot na n'8 Roic. A starting place for the ascent of 
IhMilomond. 

<S4, Hero's Targe. ‘‘There is a rock so named in the 
forest of Olenfinlas. hy which a tumultuary cataract takes 
its course. This wild place is said in former times to have 
afforded refuge to an outlaw, who was supplied with pro¬ 
visions hy a woman, who lowered them down from the 
I)rink of the precipice above. His waters he procured for 
himself, hy letting down a flagon tied to a string, into the 
hlack pool beneath the fall.” — Scott. 


80 

85 

90 

95 



96 


The Lady of the Lake 


That, watching while the deer is broke, 

His morsel claims with sullen croak?” 

MALISE 

— “Peace! peace! to other than to me, 

Thy words were evil augury; 

But still I hold Sir Roderick’s blade 
Clan^Alpine’s omen and her aid, 

Not aught that, gleamed from heaven or hell, 
Yon fiend-begotten monk can tell. 

The Chieftain joins him, see—and now, 
Together they descend the brow.”— 


100 


105 


VI. 

And, as they came, with Alpine’s Lord 
The Hermit Monk held solemn word: 
“Roderick! it is a fearful strife. 

For man endowed with mortal life. 

Whose shroud of sentient clay can still 
Feel feverish pang and fainting chill. 
Whose eye can stare in stony trance. 
Whose hair can rouse like warrior’s lance, 
’T is hard for such to view, unfurled. 

The curtain of the future world. 

Yet, witness every quaking limb. 

My sunken pulse, mine eyeballs dim. 

My soul with harrowing anguish torn,- 


110 


_ 115 


120 


98. Brolce. Quartered, “Everything belonging to the 
chase was a matter of solemnity among our ancestors; but 
nothing was more so than the mode of cutting up, or, as 
it was technically called hrcaking the slaughtered stag. 
The forester had his allotted portion; the hounds had a 
certain allowance; and, to make the division as general as 
possible, the very birds had their share also.” — Scott. 



The Lady of the Lake 


97 


This for my Chieftain have I borne!— 

The shapes that sought my fearful couch, 

A human tongue may ne’er avouch; 

No mortal man,—save he, who, bred 

Between the living and the dead, 125 

Is gifted beyond nature’s law,— 

Had e’er survived to say he Baw. 

At length the fateful answer came. 

In characters of living flame! 

Not spoke in word, nor blazed in scroll, 130 

But borne and branded on my soul;— 

WHICH SPILLS THE FOREMOST FOEMAN’S 
LIFE, 

THAT PARTY CONQUERS IN THE STRIFE.”— 
VH. 

“Thanks, Brian, for thy zeal and care! 

Good is thine augury, and fair. 

Clan-Alpine ne’er in battle stood. 

But first our broad-swords tasted blood. 

A surer victim still I know. 

Self-offered to the auspicious blow; 

A spy has sought my land this morn,— 

No eve shall witness his return! 

My followers guard each pass’s mouth. 

To east, to westward, and to south; 

Red Murdoch, bribed to be his guide. 

Has charge to lead His steps aside. 

Till, in deep path or dingle brown. 

He light on those shall bring him down. 

—But see, who comes his news to show! 

Malise! what tidings of the foe?”— 


135 


140 


145 


98 


The Lady of the Lake 


VIII. 

‘‘At Doune, o’er many a spear and glaive, 

Two Barons proud their banners wave. 

I saw the Moray’s silver star, 

And marked the sable pale of Mar.” 

“By Alpine’^ soul, high tidings those! 

I love to hear of worthy foes. 

When move they on ?”—“To-morrow’s noon 
Will see them here for battle boune.”— 

“Then shall it see a meeting stern!— 

But, for the place—say, couldst thou learn 
Nought of the friendly clans of Earn? 
Strengthened by them, we well might bide 
The battle on Benledi’s side. 

Thou couldst not?—well! Clan-Alpine’s men 
Shall man the Trosachs’ shaggy glen; 

Within Loch Katrine’s gorge we’ll fight, 

All in our maids’ and matrons’ sight. 

Each for his hearth and household fire. 
Father for child, and son for sire,— 

Lover for maid beloved!—But why— 

Is it the breeze affects mine eye? 

Or dost thou come, ill-omened tear! 

A messenger of doubt or fear? 

No! sooner may the Saxon lance 
Unfix Benledi from his stance. 

Than doubt or terror can pierce through 
The unyielding heart of Roderick Dhu! 

’T is stubborn as his trusty targe.— 

Each to his post!—all know their charge.”— 


150 


155 


160 


165 


170 


175 


15;i-155. Moray's silver star—saMe pale of Mar. The 
insignia of the Earl of Moray and the Earl of Mar. A 
pale was a vertical band through the middle of the shield. 







The Lady of the Lake 


99 


The pibroch sounds, the bands advance, 
The broad-swords gleam, the banners dance. 
Obedient to the Chieftain’s glance. 

—I turn me from the martial roar, 

And seek Coir-Urskin once more. 

IX. 

Where is the Douglas?—he is gone; 

And Ellen sits on the grey stone 
Fast by the cave, and makes her moan; 
While vainly Allanf’s words of cheer 
Are poured on her unheeding ear.— 

“He will return—dear lady, trust!— 

With joy return;—he will—he must. 

Well was it time to seek, afar. 

Some refuge from impending war, 

When e’en Clan-Alpine’s rugged swarm 
Are cowed by the approaching storm. 

I saw their boats with many a light. 
Floating the livelong yesternight. 

Shifting like flashes darted forth 
By the red streamers of the north; 

I marked at morn how close they ride. 

Thick moored by the lone islet’s side. 

Like wild-ducks couching in the fen. 

When stoops the hawk upon the glen. 

Since this rude race dare not abide 
The peril on the main-land side. 

Shall not thy noble father’s care 
Some safe retreat for thee prepare?”— 


180 

185 

190 

195 

200 

205 


198. Red streamers of the North. The northern li^ht 
the Aurora Borealis. 



100 The Lady of the Lake 

X. 

ELLEN 

“No, Allan, no! Pretext so kind 
My wakeful terrors could not blind. 

When in such tender tone, yet grave, 
Douglas a parting blessing gave. 

The tear that glistened in his eye 
Drowned not his purpose fixed and high. 
My soul, though feminine and weak. 

Can image his; e’en as the lake. 

Itself disturbed by slightest stroke. 

Reflects the invulnerable rock. 

He hears report of battle rife. 

He deems himself the cause of strife. 

I saw him redden, when the theme 
Turned, Allan, on thine idle dream. 

Of Malcolm Graeme in fetters bound, 

Which I, thou saidst, about him wound. 
Thinkest thou he trowed thine omen aught? 
0 no! ’t was apprehensive thought 
For the kind youth,—for Roderick too— 
(Let me be just) that friend so true; 

In danger both, and in our cause! 

Minstrel, the Douglas dare not pause. 

Why else that solemn warning given, 

Tf not on earth, we meet in heaven!’ 

Why else, to Cambus-kenneth’s fane. 

If eve return him not again. 

Am I to hie, and make me known? 

Alas! he goes to Scotland’s throne, 

Buys his friends’ safety with his own;— 


210 

215 

220 

225 

230 

235 


231. Camhus-Kenneth's fane. Fane meant temple or 
church. The reference here is to an abbey near Stirling. 



The Lady of the Lake 


101 


He goes to do—what I had done, 

Had Douglas’s daughter been his son!”— 


XL 


“Nay, lovely Ellen!—dearest, nay! 

If aught should his return delay, 

He only named yon holy fane 
As fitting place to meet again. 

Be sure he’s safe; and for the Graeme,— 
Heaven’s blessing on his gallant name!— 
My visioned sight may yet prove true. 

Nor bode of ill to him or you. 

When did my gifted dream beguile? 

Think of the stranger at the isle, 

And think upon the harpings slow, 

That presaged this approaching woe! 

Sooth was my prophecy of fear; 

Believe it when it augurs cheer. 

Would we had left this dismal spot! 

Ill luck still haunts a fairy grot. 

Of such a wondrous tale I know— 

Dear lady, change that look of woe! 

My harp was wont thy grief to cheer.”— 

ELLEN 

“Well, be it as thou wilt; I hear. 

But cannot stop the bursting tear.”— 

The Minstrel tried his simple art. 

But distant far was Ellen’s heart. 


240 


245 


250 


255 


260 


102 


The Lady of the Lake 


XII. 


BALLAD 
ALICE BRAND 

Merry it is in the good greenwood, 

When the mavis and merle are singing, 
When the deer sweeps by, and the hounds are 
in cry. 

And the hunter’s horn is ringing. 


“0 Alice Brand, my native land 
Is lost for love of you; 

And we must hold by wood and wold, 
As outlaws wont to do. 


“0 Alice, ’t was all for thy locks so bright. 

And’t was all for thine eyes so blue, 270 

That on the night of our luckless flight. 

Thy brother bold I slew. 

“Now must I teach to hew the beech 
The hand that held the glaive. 

For leaves to spread our lowly bed. 275 

And stakes to fence our cave, 

“And for vest of pall, thy fingers small. 

That wont on harp to stray, 

A cloak must shear from the slaughtered deer. 

To keep the cold away.”— 280i 

“0 Richard! if my brother died, r 

’T was but a fatal chance; * 





The Lady of the Lake 


103 


For darkling was the battle tried, 

And fortune sped the lance. 

“If pall and vair no more I wear, 

Nor thou the crimson sheen, 

As warm, weTl say, is the russet grey, 

As gay the forest-green. 

“And, Richard, if our lot be hard, 

And lost thy native land. 

Still Alice has her own Richard, 

And he his Alice Brand.’’— 

XIIL 

BALLAD CONTINUED 

’T is merry, ’t is merry, in good greenwood, 
iSo blithe Lady Alice is singing; 

On the beech’s pride, and oak’s brown side, 
Lord Richard’s axe is ringing. 

Up spoke the moody Elfin King, 

Who woned within the hill,— 

Like wind in the porch of a ruined church. 
His voice was ghostly shrill. 

“Why sounds yon stroke on beech and oak. 
Our moon-light circle’s screen? 

Or who comes here to chase the deer, • 
Beloved of our Elfin Queen? 

Or who may dare on wold to wear 


285 

290 

295 

300 


305 


104 


The Lady of the Lake 


The fairies’ fatal green? 

“Up, Urgan, up! to yon mortal hie, 

For thou wert christened man; 

For cross or sign thou wilt not fly. 

For muttered word or ban. 

“Lay on him the curse of the withered heart. 
The curse of the sleepless eye; 

Till he wish and pray that his life would part. 
Nor yet find leave to die.”— 

XIV. 

BALLAD CONTINUED 

’T is merry, ’t is merry, in good greenwood, ^ 
Though the birds have stilled their singing; 

The evening blaze doth Alice raise. 

And Richard is fagots bringing. 

Up Urgan starts, that hideous dwarf, 

Before Lord Richard stands, ^ 

And, as he crossed and blessed himself, 

“I fear not sign,” quoth the grisly elf, 

“That is made with bloody hands.”— 

306. Fatal green. “As the Daoine 81vi\ or Men of 
Peace, wore green habits, they were supposed to take of¬ 
fence when any mortals ventured to assume their favourite 
colour. Indeed, from some reason, which has been, i^er- 
haps, originally a general superstition, green is held in 
Scotland .to he unlucky to particular tribes and counties.” 
—‘Scott. 

308. CJuistened man. “The elves were supposed greatly 
to envy the privileges acquired by Christian initiation, and 
they gave to those mortals who had fallen into their power 
a certain precedence, founded upon this advantageous dis¬ 
tinction.”—Scott. 



The Lady of the Lake 


105 


But out then spoke she, Alice Brand, 
That woman void of fear,— 

“And if there^s blood upon his hand, 
’T is but the blood of deer.”— 


325 


“Now loud thou liest, thou bold of mood! 

It cleaves unto his hand. 

The stain of thine own kindly blood. 

The blood of Ethert Brand.”— 


330 


Then forward stepped she, Alice Brand, 
And made the holy sign,— 

“And if there’s blood on Richard’s hand, 
A spotless hand is mine. 


333 


“And I conjure thee. Demon elf. 

By Him whom Demons fear. 

To show us whence thou art thyself. 
And what thine errand here?”— 


XV. 

BALLAD CONTINUED 

“’T is merry, ’t is merry, in Fairy land. 

When fairy birds are singing, 

When the court doth ride by their monarch’s 
side, 

With bit and bridle ringing: 


340 


“And gaily shines the Fairy land— 

But all is glistening show. 

Like the idle gleam that December’s beam 
Can dart on ice and snow. 


345 


106 


The Lady of the Lake 


“And fading, like that varied gleam, 

Is our inconstant shape, 

Who now like knight and lady seem, 

And now like dwarf and ape. 

“It was between the night and day, 

When the Fairy King has power. 

That I sunk down in a sinful fray. 

And, hwixt life and death, was snatched away 355 
To the joyless Elfin bower. 

“But wist I of a woman bold. 

Who thrice my brow durst sign, 

I might regain my mortal mould, 

As fair a form as thine.” 3G0 

She crossed him once—she crossed him twice— 
That lady was so brave; 

The fouler grew his goblin hue. 

The darker grew the cave. 

She crossed him thrice, that lady bold; 365 

He rose beneath her hand 
The fairest knight on Scottish mould. 

Her brother, Ethert Brand! 

Merry it is in good greenw'ood. 

When the mavis and merle are singing, 370 
But merrier were they in Dunfermline grey, 

When all the bells were ringing. 


371. Dunfermline. The residence of the early kings of 
Scotland. 



The Lady of the Lake 


107 


XVI. 


Just as the minstrel sounds were stayed, 

A stranger climbed the steepy glade; 

His martial step, his stately mien, 

His hunting suit of Lincoln green. 

His eagle glance, remembrance claims— 

T is Snowdoun’s Knight, T is James Fitz-James. 
Ellen beheld as in a dream, 

Then, starting, scarce suppressed a scream: 

“0 stranger! in such hour of fear, 

What evil hap has brought thee here?”— 

‘‘An evil hap can it be. 

That bids me look again on thee? 

By promise bound, my former guide 
Met me betimes this morning tide, 

And marshalled, over bank and bourne. 

The happy path of my return.”— 

“The happy path!—what! said he naught 
Of war, of battle to be fought. 

Of guarded pass?”—“No, by my faith! 

Nor saw I aught could augur scathe.”— 

“0 hasten, Allan, to the kern, 

—Yonder his tartans I discern; 

Learn thou his purpose, and conjure 
That he will guide the stranger sure!— 

What prompted thee, unhappy man? 

The meanest serf in Roderick’s clan 
Had not been bribed by love or fear. 

Unknown to him, to guide thee here.”— 


375 


380 


385 


390 


395 


400 


XVII. 

“Sweet Ellen, dear my life must be. 
Since it is worthy care from thee; 


108 


The Lady of the Lake 


Yet life I hold but idle breath, 

When love or honour’s weighed with death. 

Then let me profit by my chance, 

And speak my purpose bold at once. 

I come to bear thee from a wild. 

Where ne’er before such blossom smiled; 

By this soft hand to lead thee far 

From frantic scenes of feud and war. 410 

Near Bochastle my horses wait; 

They bear us soon to Stirling gate. 

I’ll place thee in a lovely bower. 

I’ll guard thee like a tender flower—” 

“0! hush, Sir Knight! ’t were female art, 415 
To say I do not read thy heart; 

Too much, before, my selfish ear 


420 


425 


430 

Still wouldst thou speak?—then hear the truth! 
Fitz-James, there is a noble youth,— 

If yet he is!—exposed for me 
And mine to dread extremity—> 


Was idly soothed my praise to hear. 
That fatal bait hath lured thee back. 

In deathful hour, o’er dangerous track; 
And how, 0 how, can I atone 
The wreck my vanity brought on!— 
One way remains—I’ll tell him all— 
Yes! struggling bosom, forth it shall! 
Thou, whose light folly bears the blame. 
Buy thine own pardon with thy shame! 
But first—my father is a man 
Outlawed and exiled, under ban; 

The price of blood is on his head. 

With me’t were infamy to wed.— 


The Lady of the Lake 


109 


Thou hast the secret of my heart; 

Forgive, be generous, and depart!” — 

XVIIL 

Fitz-James knew every wily train 
A lady’s fickle heart to gain, 

But here he knew and felt them vain. 

There shot no glsnce from Ellen’s eye. 

To give her steadfast speech the lie; 

In maiden confidence she stood. 

Though mantled in her cheek the blood. 
And told her love with such a sigh 
Of deep and hopeless agony. 

As death had sealed her Malcolm’s doom. 
And she sat sorrowing on his tomb. 

Hope vanished from Fitz-James’s eye. 

But not with hope fled sympathy. 

He proffered to attend her side. 

As brother would a sister guide.— 

“0! little know’st thou Roderick’s heart! 
Safer for both we go apart. 

O haste thee, and from Allan learn 
If thou mayst trust yon wily kern.”— 

With hand upon his forehead laid. 

The conflict of his mind to shade, 

A parting step or two he made; 

Then, as some thought had crossed his brain. 
He paused, and turned, and came again. 

XIX. 

“Hear, lady, yet, a parting word!— 

It chanced in fight that my poor sword 
Preserved the life of Scotland’s lord. 


435 

440 

445 

450 

455 

460 


110 


The Lady of the Lake 


This ring the grateful Monarch gave, 

And bade, when I had boon to crave, 

To bring it back, and boldly claim 
The recompense that I would name. 

Ellen, I am no courtly lord. 

But one who lives by lance and sword. 

Whose castle is his helm and shield, 470 

His lordship, the embattled field. 

What from a prince can I demand. 

Who neither reck of state nor land? 

Ellen, thy hand—the ring is thine; 

Each guard and usher knows the sign. 475 

Seek thou the ring without delay; 

This signet shall secure thy way; 

And claim thy suit, whatever it be. 

As ransom of his pledge to me.’’— 

He placed the golden circlet on, 480 

Paused—kissed her hand—and then was gone. 

The aged Minstrel stood aghast. 

So hastily Fitz-James shot past. 

He joined his guide, and wending down 

The ridges of the mountain brown, 485 

Across the stream they took their way. 

That joins Loch Katrine to Achray. 


XX. 

All in the Trosachs’ glen was still. 

Noontide was sleeping on the hill: 

Sudden his guide whooped loud and high— 490 

“Murdoch! was that a signal cry?” 

He stammered forth,—“I shout to scare 
Yon raven from his dainty fare.” 

He looked—he knew the raven’s prey, 



The Lady of the Lake 


111 


His own brave steed:—“Ah! gallant grey! 
For thee—for me, perchance—’t were well 
We ne’er had seen the Trosachs’ dell.— 
Murdoch, move first—but silently; 

Whistle or whoop, and thou shalt die.”— 
Jealous and sullen on they fared. 

Each silent, each upon his guard. 

XXL 

Now wound the path its dizzy ledge 
Around a precipice’s edge. 

When lo! a wasted female form, 

Blighted by wrath of 3 un and storm. 

In tattered weeds and wild array, 

Stood on a cliff beside the way, 

And glancing round her restless eye, 

Upon the wood, the rock, the sky. 

Seemed naught to mark, yet all to spy. 
Her brow was wreathed with gaudy broom; 
With gesture wild she waved a plume 
Of feathers, which the eagles fling 
To craig and cliff from dusky wing; 

Such spoils her desperate step had sought. 
Where scarce was footing for the goat. 
The tartan plaid she first descried. 

And shrieked, till all the rocks replied; 

As loud she laughed when near they drew, 
For then the Lowland garb she knew; 

And then her hands she wildly wrung. 
And then she wept, and then she sung.— 
She sung!—the voice, in better time, 
Perchance to harp or lute might chime; 


495 

500 

505 

510 

515 

520 


112 


The Lady of the Lake 


And now, though strained and roughened, still 525 
Rung wildly sweet to dale and hill. 

XXII. 

SONG 

They bid me sleep, they bid me pray. 

They say my brain is warped and wrung— 

I cannot sleep on Highland brae, 

I cannot pray in Highland tongue. 530 

But were I now where Allan glides. 

Or heard my native Devan’s tides. 

So sweetly would I rest, and pray 
That Heaven would close my wintry day! 

’T was thus my hair they bade me braid, 535 

They bade me to the church repair; 

It was my bridal morn, they said. 

And my true love would meet me there. 

But woe betide the cruel guile, 

That drowned in blood the morning smile! 540 
And woe betide the fairy dream! 

I only waked to sob and scream.— 

XXIII. 

“Who is this maid? What means her lay? 

She hovers o’er the hollow way. 

And flutters wide her mantle grey, 545 

As the lone heron spreads his wing. 

By twilight, o’er a haunted spring.”— 

“’T is Blanche of Devan,” Murdoch said, 


531-532. Allan, Devan. Two beautiful streams of the 
Lowland country* 



The Lady of the Lake 


113 


“A crazed and captive Lowland maid, 

Ta’en on the morn she was a bride, 

When Roderick forayed Devan-side. 

The gay bridegroom resistance made. 

And felt our Chief’s unconquered blade. 

I marvel she is now at large. 

But oft she ’scapes from Maudlin’s charge.— 
Hence, brain-sick fool!”—He raised his bow:— 
“Now, if thou strik’st her but one blow. 

I’ll pitch thee from the cliff as far 
As ever peasant pitched a bar!”— 

“Thanks, champion, thanks!” the Maniac cried. 
And pressed her to Fitz-James’s side. 

“See the grey pennons I prepare, 

To seek my true-love through the air! 

I will not lend that savage groom. 

To break his fall, one downy plume! 

No!—deep amid disjointed stones. 

The wolves shall batten on his bones, 

And then shall his detested plaid. 

By bush and brier in mid air stayed. 

Wave forth a banner fair and free. 

Meet signal for their revelry.”— 

XXIV. 

“Hush thee, poor maiden, and be still!”— 

“0! thou look’st kindly, and I will.— 

Mine eye has dried and wasted been, 

But still it loves the Lincoln green; 

And, though mine ear is all unstrung. 

Still, still it loves the Lowland tongue. 

“For 0 my sweet William was forester true, 


550 

555 

560 

565 

570 

575 


114 


The Lady of the Lake 


He stole poor Blanche’s heart away! 

His coat it was all of the greenwood hue, 
And 30 blithely he trilled the Lowland lay! 

“It was not that I meant to tell . . . 

But thou art wise, and guessest well.”— 
Then, in a low and broken tone. 

And hurried note, the song went on. 

Still on the Clans-man, fearfully, 

She fixed her apprehensive eye; 

Then turned it on the Knight, and then 
Her look glanced wildly o’er the glen. 


585 


XXV. 

“The toils are pitched, and the stakes are set, 590 
Ever sing merrily, merrily; 

The bows they bend, and the knives they whet. 
Hunters live so cheerily. 

“It was a stag, a stag of ten. 

Bearing its branches sturdily; 595 

He came stately down the glen, 

Ever sing hardily, hardily. 


“It was there he met with a wounded doe, 
She was bleeding deathfully; 

She warned him of the toils below, 

0, so faithfully, faithfully! 

“He had an eye, and he could heed, 
Ever sing warily, warily; 

He had a foot, and he could speed— 
Hunters watch so narrowly.”— 


600 


mi 


594. Stag of ten. A stag having ten branches on his 
antlers. 





The Lady of the Lake 


115 


XXVI. 

Fitz-James’^ mind was passion-tossed, 

When Ellen’s hints and fears were lost; 

But Murdoch’s shout suspicion wrought, 

And Blanche’s song conviction brought.— 

Not like a stag that spies the snare, CIO 

But lion of the hunt aware. 

He waved at once his blade on high, 

“Disclose thy treachery, or die!”— 

Forth at full speed the Clans-man flew, 

But in his race his bow he drew. C15 

The shaft just grazed Fitz-James’s crest. 

And thrilled in Blanche’s faded breast.— 

Murdoch of Alpine! prove thy speed. 

For ne’er had Alpine’s son such need! 

With heart of Are, and foot of wind, 620 

The flerce avenger is behind! 

Fate judges of the rapid strife— 

The forfeit death—the prize is life! 

Thy kindred ambush lies before. 

Close couched upon the heathery moor; 625 

Them couldst thou reach!—it may not be— 

Thine ambushed kin thou ne’er shalt see. 

The fiery Saxon gains on thee! 

—Resistless speeds the deadly thrust. 

As lightning strikes the pine to dust; 630 

With foot and hand Fitz-James must strain. 

Ere he can win his blade again. 

Bent o’er the fallen, with falcon eye. 

He grimly smiled to see him die; 

Then slower wended back his way, 635 

Where the poor maiden bleeding lay. 


116 


The Lady of the Lake 


XXVII. 


She sate beneath the birchen tree, 

Her elbow resting on her knee; 

She had withdrawn the fatal shaft, 

And gazed on it, and feebly laughed; 

Her wreath of broom and feathers grey. 
Daggled with blood, beside her lay. 

The Knight to stanch the life-stream tried,— 
“Stranger, it is in vain!’’ she cried. 

“This hour of death has given me more 
Of reason’s power than years before; 

For, as these ebbing veins decay. 

My frenzied visions fade away. 

A helpless, injured wretch I die. 

And something tells me in thine eye. 

That thou wert mine avenger born.— 

Seest thou this tress?—0! still I’ve worn 
This little tress of yellow hair. 

Through danger, frenzy, and despair! 

It once was bright and clear as thine. 

But blood and tears have dimmed its shine. 

I will not tell thee when’t was shred. 

Nor from what guiltless victim'’s head— 

My brain would turn!—but it shall wave 
Like plumage on thy helmet brave. 

Till sun and wind shall bleach the stain. 

And thou wilt bring it me again.— 

I waver still.—0 God! more bright 
Let reason beam her parting light!— 

0! by thy knighthood’s honoured sign, 

And for thy life preserved by mine. 

When thou shalt see a darksome man. 

Who boasts him Chief of Alpine’s clan, 


•i 

G40^ 


G45 


G50 


G55 


GGO 


GG5 


The Lady of the Lake 


117 


With tartans broad and shadowy plume, 

And hand of blood, and brow of gloom. 

Be thy heart bold, thy weapon strong. 

And wreak poor Blanche of Devan’s wrong!— 
They watch for thee by pass and fell . . . 

Avoid the path ... O' God! . . . farewell.”— 


XXVIII. 


A kindly heart had brave Fitz-James; 

Fa^t poured his eyes at pity’s claims. 

And now, with mingled grief and ire. 

He saw the murdered maid expire. 

“God, in my need, be my relief. 

As I wreak this on yonder Chief!”— 

A lock from Blanche’s tresses fair 
Hie blended with her bridegroom’s hair; 

The mingled braid in blood he dyed. 

And placed it on his bonnet-side: 

“By Him who^e word is truth! I swear, 

ISLo other favour will I wear, 

Till this sad token I imbrue 
In the best blood of Roderick Dhu! 

—But hark! what means yon faint halloo? 
The chase is up,—but they shall know. 

The stag at bay’s a dangerous foe.”— 

Barred from the known but guarded way. 
Through copse and cliffs Fitz-James must stray, 
And oft must change his desperate track. 

By stream and precipice turned back. 
Heartless, fatigued, and faint, at length. 

From lack of food and loss of strength. 

He couched him in a thicket hoar. 

And thought his toils and perils o’er:— 


675 


680 


685 


690 


695 


J18 The Lady of the Lake 

“Of all my rash adventures past, 

This frantic feat must prove the last! 

Who e’er so mad but might have guessed 
That all this Highland hornet’s nest 
Would muster up in swarms so soon 
As e’er they heard of bands at Doune?— 

Like bloodhounds now they search me out,— 
Hark, to the whistle and the shout!— 

If farther through the wilds I go, 

I only fall upon the foe; 

I’ll couch me here till evening grey. 

Then darkling try my dangerous way.”— 

XXIX. 

The shades of eve come slowly down. 

The woods are wrapt in deeper brown. 

The owl awakens from her dell, 

The fox is heard upon the fell; 

Enough remains of glimmering light 
To guide the wanderer’s step aright. 

Yet not enough from far to show 
His figure to the watchful foe. 

With cautious step and ear awake. 

He climbs the crag and threads the brake; 

And not the summer solstice, there. 

Tempered the midnight mountain air. 

But every breeze, that swept the wold, 
Benumbled his drenched limbs with cold. 

In dread, in danger, and alone. 

Famished and chilled, through ways unknown. 
Tangled and steep, he journeyed on; 

Till, as a rock’s huge point he turned, 

A watch-fire close before him burned. 


700 

705 

710 

715 

720 

725 


730 


The Lady of the Lake 


119 


XXX. 


Beside its embers red and clear, 

Basked, in his plaid, a mountaineer; 

And up he sprung with sword in hand,— 

“Thy name and purpose! Saxon, stand!”— 

“A stranger.”—“What dost thou require?” 
“Rest and a guide, and food and fire. 

My life’s beset, my path is lost. 

The gale has chilled my limbs with frost.”— 
“Art thou a friend of Roderick?”— “No.”— 
“Thou dar’st not call thyself a foe?”— 

“I dare! to him and all the band 
He brings to aid his murderous hand.”— 
“Bold words!—but, though the beast of game 
The privilege of chase may claim. 

Though space and law the stag we lend. 

Ere hound we slip, or bow we bend, 

Who ever recked, where, how, or when, 

The prowling fox was trapped or slain? 

Thus treacherous scouts,—yet sure they lie, 
Who say thou cam’st a secret spy!”— 

“They do, by heaven!—Come Roderick Dhu, 
And of his clan the boldest two. 

And let me but till morning rest, 

I write the falsehood on their crest.”— 

“If by the blaze I mark aright. 

Thou bear’st the belt and spur of Knight.”— 
“Then by these tokens mayst thou know 
Each proud oppressor’s mortal foe.”— 
“Enough, enough; sit down and share 
A soldier’s couch, a soldier’s fare. 


7‘i5 


740 


745 


750 


755 


760 


746. Ere hound we slip. To slip the hound was a 
hunting term meaning to loose the hound. 



120 


The Lady of the Lake 


xxxi. 

He gave him of his Highland cheer, 

The hardened flesh of mountain deer; 

Dry fuel on the fire he laid, 

And bade the Saxon share his plaid. 

He tended him like welcome guest. 

Then thus his further speech addressed. 
“Stranger, I am to Roderick Dhu 
A clansman born, a kinsman true; 

Each word against his honour spoke 
Demands of me avenging stroke; 

Yet more,—upon thy fate, ’t is said, 

A mighty augury is laid. 

It rests with me to wind my horn,— 

Thou art with numbers overborne; 

It rests with me, here, brand to brand, 

Worn as thou art, to bid thee stand: 

But, not for clan, nor kindred’s cause. 

Will I depart from honour’s laws; 

To assail a wearied man were shame. 

And stranger is a holy name; 

Guidance and rest, and food and fire. 

In vain he never must require. 

Then rest thee here till dawn of day; 

Miyself will guide thee on the way. 

O’er stock and stone, through watch and ward, 'i'85 
Till past Clan-Alpine’s outmost guard, 

As far as Coilantogle’s ford; 


762. The hardened flesh of mountain deer. The High¬ 
landers often dispensed with the cooking of their venison. 
Instead they pressed it between two sticks of wood so as 
to force out the blood and cause the meat to be extremely 
hard. 


770 


775 


780 



The Lady of the Lake 


121 


From thence thy warrant is thy sword.’' — 
‘T take thy courtesy, by Heaven, 

As freely as’t is nobly given!”— 

“Well, rest thee; for the bittern’s cry 
Sings us the lake’s wild lullaby,” 

With that he shook the gathered heath, 

And spread his plaid upon the wreath; 

And the brave foemen, side by side. 

Lay peaceful down like brothers tried. 

And slept until the dawning beam 
Purpled the mountain and the stream. 


794. Wreath. The pile of heath. 



CANTO FIFTH. 

1 . 

THE COMBAT 

Fair as the earliest beam of eastern light, 
When first, by the bewildered pilgrim spied. 

It smiles upon the dreary brow of night. 

And silvers o’er the torrent’s foaming tide. 
And lights the fearful path on mountain side;- 
Fair as that beam, although the fairest far. 
Giving to horror grace, to danger pride. 

Shine martial Faith, and Courtesy’s bright star. 
Through all the wreckful storms that cloud the 
of War. 


II. 

That early beam, so fair and sheen. 

Was twinkling through the hazel screen. 
When, rousing at its glimmer red. 

The warriors left their lowly bed. 
Looked out upon the dappled sky. 
Muttered their soldier matins by, 

And then awaked their fire, to steal. 

As short and rude, their soldier meal. 
That o’er, the Gael around him threw 
His graceful plaid of varied hue. 

And, true to promise, led the way. 

By thicket green and mountain grey. 

A wildering path!—they winded now 
Along the precipice’s brow. 

Commanding the rich scenes beneath, 
The windings of the Forth and Teith, 


5 


brow 


10 


15 


20 


25 




The Lady of the Lake 


And all the vales between that lie, 

Till Stirling’s turrets melt in sky; 

Then, sunk in copse, their farthest glance 
Gained not the length of horseman’s lance. 
’T was oft so steep, the foot was fain 
Assistance from the hand to gain; 

So tangled oft, that, bursting through. 

Each hawthorn shed her showers of dew,— 
That diamond dew, so pure and clear. 

It rivals all but Beauty’s tear! 

III. 

At length they came where, stern and steep. 
The hill sinks down upon the deep. 

Here Vennachar in silver flows. 

There, ridge on ridge, Benledi rose; 

Ever the hollow path twined on, 

Beneath steep bank and threatening stone; 
An hundred men might hold the post 
With hardihood against a host. 

The rugged mountain’s scanty cloak 
Was dwarfish shrubs of birch and oak, 
With shingles bare, and cliffs between. 

And patches bright of bracken green. 

And heather black, that waved so high. 

It held the copse in rivalry. 

But where the lake slept deep and still. 
Dank osiers fringed the swamp and hill; 
And oft both path and hill were torn. 
Where wintry torrent down had borne. 

And heaped upon the cumbered land 
Its wreck of gravel, rocks, and sand. 

So toilsome was the road to trace. 


124 


The Lady of the Lake 


The guide, abating of his pace, 

Led slowly through the pass’s jaws, 

And asked Fitz-James by what strange cause 
He sought these wilds, traversed by few. 
Without a pass from Roderick Dhu. 


IV. 

‘‘Brave Gael, my pass, in danger tried. 
Hangs in my belt, and by my side; 

Yet, sooth to tell,” the Saxon said, 

“I dreamt not now to claim its aid. 

When here, but three days since, I came, 
Bewildered in pursuit of game. 

All seemed as peaceful and as still. 

As the mist slumbering on yon hill; 

Thy dangerous Chief was then afar. 

Nor soon expected back from war. 

Thus said, at least, my mountain guide. 
Though deep, perchance, the villain lied.”— 
“Yet why a second venture try?”— 

“A warrior thou, and ask me why!— 

IVtoves our free course by such fixed cause. 
As gives the poor mechanic laws? 

Enough, I sought to drive away 
The lazy hours of peaceful day; 

Slight cause will then suffice to guide 
A Knight’s free footsteps far and wide,— 
A falcon ffown, a greyhound strayed. 

The merry glance of mountain maid; 

Or if a path be dangerous known. 

The danger’s self is lure alone.”— 


The Lady of the Lake 


125 


V. 

“Thy secret keep, I urge thee not;— 

Yet, ere again ye sought this spot, 

Say, heard ye naught of Lowland war. 
Against Clan-Alpine, raised by Mar?”— 

—“No, by my word;—of bands prepared 
To guard King James’s sports I heard; 

Nor doubt I aught, but, when they hear 
This muster of the mountaineer. 

Their pennons will abroad be flung. 

Which else in Doune had peaceful hung.”— 
“Free be they flung! for we were loath 
Their silken folds should feast the moth. 
Free be they flung!—as free shall wave 
Clan-Alpine’s pine in banner brave. 

But, Stranger, peaceful since you came, 
Bewildered in the mountain game. 

Whence the bold boast by which you show 
Vich-Alpine’s vowed and mortal foe?”— 
“Warrior, but yester-morn, I knew 
Naught of thy Chieftain, Roderick Dhu, 
Save as an outlawed desperate man, 

The chief of a rebellious clan. 

Who, in the Regent^s court and sight. 

With rufflan dagger stabbed a knight; 

Yet this alone might from his part 
Sever each true and loyal heart.”— 


90 


95 


100 


105 


110 


108. Regent's court. A regent is one who rules during 
the minority of the rightful ruler. .John Stuart, Uuke of 
Albany, was regent during the minority of James V. He 
was not a strong ruler* 



126 


The Lady of the Lake 


VI. 


Wrothful at such arraignment foul, 

Dark lowered the clans-man’s sable scowl. 
A space he paused, then sternly said,— 
“And heardst thou why he drew his blade? 
Heardst thou that shameful word and blow 
Brought Roderick’s vengeance on his foe? 
What recked the Chieftain if he stood 
On Highland heath, or Holy-Rood? 

He rights such wirong where it is given, 

If it were in the court of Heaven.”— 

“Still was it outrage;—yet, ’t is true, 

'N'ot then claimed sovereignty his due; 
While Albany, with feeble hand. 

Held borrowed truncheon of command, 

The young King, mewed in Stirling tower, 
Was stranger to respect and power. 

But then, thy Chieftain’s robber life!— 
Winning mean prey by causeless strife. 
Wrenching from ruined Lowland swain 
His herds and harvest reared in vain,— 
Methinks a soul like thine should scorn 
The spoils from such foul foray borne.”— 


115 


120 


125 


130 


VII. 


The Gael beheld him grim the while. 
And answered with disdainful smile,- 
“Saxon, from yonder mountain high, 
I marked thee send delighted eye. 


135 


119. Holy-Rood.. See note Canto II, line 221. 

126. The young king, mewed in Stirling tower. See 
Introduction, “James V. of Scotland.” 



The Lady of the Lake 


127 


Far to the south and east, where lay, 
Extended in succession gay, 

Deep waving fields and pastures green, 
With gentle slopes and groves between;— 
These fertile plains, that softened vale. 
Were once the birthright of the Gael; 

The stranger came with iron hand. 

And from our fathers reft the land. 

Where dwell we now! See, rudely swell 
Crag over crag, and fell o’er fell. 

Ask we this savage hill we tread. 

For fattened steer or household bread; 
Ask we for flocks these shingles dry. 

And well the mountain might reply,— 

‘To you, as to your sires of yore, 

Belong the target and claymore! 

I give you shelter in my breast, 

Your own good blades must win the rest.’— 
Pent in this fortress of the North, 
Think’st thou we will not sally forth. 

To spoil the spoiler as we may. 

And from the robber rend the prey? 

Ay, by my soul!—While on yon plain 
The Saxon rears one shock of grain; 
While, of ten thousand herds there strays 
But one along yon river’s maze,— 

The Gael, of plain and river heir. 

Shall, with strong hand, redeem his share. 
Where live the mountain Chiefs who hold 
That plundering Lowland field and fold 


140 


145 


150 


155 


160 


165 


143. Were once the birthright of the Gael. See Intro¬ 
duction, “Highlanders and Lowlanders.” 



128 


The Lady of the Lake 


Is aught but retribution true? 

Seek other cause ’gainst Roderick Dhu.”— 

VIII. 

Answered Fitz-James,—“And, if I sought, 

Think’st thou no other could be brought? 

What deem ye of my path way-laid? 

My life given o’er to ambuscade?”— 

“As of a meed to rashness due: 

Hadst thou sent warning fair and true,— 

I seek my hound, or falcon strayed, 

I seek, good faith, a Highland maid,— 

Free hadst thou been to come and go; 

But secret path marks secret foe. 

Nor yet for this, even as a spy, 180 

Hadst thou, unheard, been doomed to die. 

Save to fulfil an augury.”— 

“Well, let it pass; nor will I now 
Fresh cause of enmity avow. 

To chafe thy mood and cloud thy brow. 185 

Enough, I am by promise tied 
To match me with this man of pride: 

Twice have I sought Clan-Alpine’s glen 
In peace; but when I come again, 

I come with banner, brand, and bow, 190 


169. Seek other cause 'gainst Roderick Dhu. “So far 
indeed, was a Creagh, or foray, from heiiig held disgrace¬ 
ful, that a young chief was always expected to show his 
talents for command so soon as he assumed it, by leading 
his clan on a successful enterprise of this nature, either 
against a neighboring sept, for which constant feuds usu¬ 
ally furnished an apology, or against the Sassenach, Sax¬ 
ons, or Lowlanders, for which no apology was necessary.” 
—Scott. 



The Lady of the Lake 


129 


As leader seeks his mortal foe. 

For love-lorn swain, in lady’s bower, 

Ne’er panted for the appointed hour, 

As I, until before me stand 

This rebel Chieftain and his band!” 

IX. 

“Ifave, then, thy wish!”—He whistled shrill. 
And he was answered from the hill; 

Wild as the scream of the curlew. 

From crag to crag the signal flew. 

Instant, through copse and heath, arose 
Bonnets and spears and bended bows; 

On right, on left, above, below. 

Sprung up at once the lurking foe; 

From shingles grey their lances start. 

The bracken bush sends forth the dart. 

The rushes and the willow-wland 
Are bristling into axe and brand. 

And every tuft of broom gives life 
To plaided warrior armed for strife. 

That whistle garrisoned the glen 
At once with full five hundred men. 

As if the yawning hill to heaven 
A subterranean host had given. 

Watching their leader’s beck and will. 

All silent there they stood, and still. 

Like the loose crags whose threatening mass 
Lay tottering o’er the hollow pass. 

As if an infant’s touch could urge 
Their headlong passage down the verge, 

With step and weapon forward flung, 

198. Curlew. Spelled curlieu in the edition of 1830. 


195 

200 

205 

210 

215 

220 



130 


The Lady of the Lake 


Upon the mountain side they hung. 

The Mountaineer cast glance of pride 
Along Benledi’s living side, 

Then fixed his eye and sable brow 

Full on Fitz-James—‘How say’st thou now? 

These are Clan-Alpine’s warriors true; 

And, Saxon,—I am Roderick Dhu!”— 

X. 

Fitz-James was brave:—though to his heart 
The life-blood thrilled with sudden start, 

He manned himself with dauntless air, 
Returned the Chief his haughty stare, 

His back against a rock he bore, 

And firmly placed his foot before:— 

“Come one, come all! this rock shall fly 
From its firm base as soon as 1.”— 

Sir Roderick marked—and in his eyes 
Respect was mingled with surprise, 

And the stern joy which warriors feel 
In foeman worthy of their steel. 

Short space he stood—then waved his hand; 
Down sunk the disappearing band; 

Each warrior vanished where he stood. 

In broom or bracken, heath or wood; 

Sunk brand and spear and bended bow. 

In osiers pale and copses low; 

It seemed as if their mother Earth 
Had swallowed up her warlike birth. 

The wind’s last breath had tossed in air. 
Pennon, and plaid, and plumage fair,— 

The next but swept a lone hill-side, 

Where heath and fern were waving wide; 






The Lady of the Lake 


131 



(V)ine one coim* all! this ro( U shall Hv 

« 

h-()in its firm base as soon as I.” 















































132 


The Lady of the Lake 


The sun’s last glance was glinted back, 

From spear and glaive, from targe and jack,— 

The next, all unreflected, shone 
On bracken green, and cold grey stone. 

XL 

Fitz-James looked round—yet scarce believed 
The witness that his sight received; 

Such apparition well might seem 
^Delusion of a dreadful dream. 

Sir Roderick in suspense he eyed. 

And to his look the Chief replied, 

“Fear naught—nay, that I need not say— 

But—doubt not aught from mine array. 

Thou art my guest;—I pledged my word 
As far as Coilantogle ford: 

Nor would I call a clans-man’s brand 
For aid against one valiant hand. 

Though on our strife lay every vale 
Rent by the Saxon from the Gael. 

So move we on;—I only meant 
Tp show the reed on which you leant, 

Deeming this path you might pursue 
Without a pass from Roderick Dhu.”— 

They moved:—I said Fitz-James was brave, 

As ever knight that belted glaive; 275- 

Yet dare not say that now his blood 
Kept on its wont and tempered flood. 

As, following Roderick’s stride, he drew 
That seeming lonesome path-way through. 

Which yet, by fearful proof, was rife 280 

271. *S7K>ir. Scott soiiietimos uses, sJicw, the old form 
of the word. 


200 


205 


270 



The Lady of the Lake 133 


With lances, that, to take his life. 

Waited hut signal from a guide. 

So late dishonoured and defied. 

Ever, by stealth, his eye sought round 

The vanished guardians of the ground, 285 

And still, from copse and heather deep. 

Fancy saw' spear and broad-sword peep, 

And in the plover’s shrilly strain. 

The signal whistle heard again. 

Nor breathed he free till far behind 290 

The pass was left; for then they wind 
Along a wide and level green. 

Where neither tree nor tuft was seen. 

Nor rush nor bush of broom was near. 

To hide a bonnet or a spear. 295 

XII. 

The Chief in silence strode before. 

And reached that torrent’s sounding shore. 
Which, daughter of three mighty lakes. 

From Vennachar in silver breaks. 

Sweeps through the plain, and ceaseless mines 300 
On Bochastle the mouldering lines. 

Where Rome, the Empress of the world. 

Of yore her eagle wings unfurled. 

And here his course the Chieftain stayed. 

Threw down his target and his plaid, 305 

And to the Lowland warrior said:— 


301. On Bochastle the moiildering lines. Scott tells 
as tluit on Bochastle plain there are remains of intrench- 
ments thought to have been Roman. 

303. Eagle wings. The eagle was the emblem on the 
standards of the Roman army. 



134 


The Lady of the Lake 


“Bold Saxon! to his promise just, 

Vich-Alpine has discharged his trust. 

This murderous chief, this ruthless man, 
This head of a rebellious clan. 

Hath led thee safe, through watch and ward, 
Far past Clan-Alpine’s outmost guard. 

Now, man to man, and steel to steel, 

A Chieftain’s vengeance thou shall feel. 

See, here, all vantageless I stand, 

Armed like thyself, with single brand; 

For this is Coilantogle ford. 

And thou must keep thee with thy sword.”— 

XIII. 

The Saxon paused:—“I ne’er delayed, 

When foeman bade me draw my blade; 

Nay, more, brave Chief, I vowed thy death: 
Yet sure thy fair and generous faith. 

And my deep debt for life preserved, 

A better meed have well deserved:— 

Can naught but blood our feud atone? 

Are there no means?”—“No, stranger, none! 
And hear,—to fire thy flagging zeal,— 

The Saxon cause rests on thy steel; 

For thus spoke Fate, by prophet bred 
Between the living and the dead; 

‘Who spills the foremost foeman’s life. 

His party conquers in the strife.’ ”— 

“Then, by my word,” the Saxon said, 

“The riddle is already read. 

Seek yonder brake beneath the cliff,— 

There lies Red Murdoch, stark and stiff. 

Thus Fate has solved her prophecy. 


310 

315 

320 

325 

330 

335 


The Lady of the Lake 135 

Then yield to Fate, and not to me. 

To James, at Stirling, let us go. 

When, if thou wilt be still his foe, 340 

Or if the King shall not agree 
To grant thee grace and favour free, 

I plight mine honour, oath and word. 

That, to thy native strengths restored. 

With each advantage ^halt thou stand, 345 

That aids thee now to guard thy land.” 

XIV. 

Dark lightning flashed from Roderick’s eye— 
“Soars thy presumption, then, so high. 

Because a wretched kern ye slew. 

Homage to name to Roderick Dhu? 350 

He yields not, he, to man nor Fate! 

Thou add’st but fuel to my hate:— 

My clansman’s blood demands revenge. 

Not yet prepared?—By heaven! I change 
My thought, and hold thy valour light 355 

As that of some vain carpet-knight. 

Who ill deserved my courteous care. 

And whose best boast is but to wear 
A braid of his fair lady’s hair.”— 

—“I thank thee, Roderick, for the word! 360 

It nerves my heart, it steels my sword; 

For I have sworn this braid to stain 
In the best blood that warms thy vein. 

Nowl, truce, farewell! and, ruth, begone!— ■ 


356. Carpet knight. One who had received knighthood 
kneeling on the carpet of the royal castle, perhaps through 
personal favoritism of the king, instead of on the battle¬ 
field for bravery in action. 



136 


The Lady of the Lake 


Yet think not that by thee alone, 

Proud Chief! can courtesy be shown. 

Though not from copse, or heath, or cairn. 

Start at my whistle clans-men stern. 

Of this small horn one feeble blast 
Would fearful odds against thee cast. 

But fear not—doubt not—which thou wilt— 

We try this quarrel hilt to hilt.”— 

Then each at once his falchion drew. 

Each on the ground his scabbard threw. 

Each looked to sun, and stream, and plain, '^5 
As what they ne’er might see again: 

Then foot, and point, and eye opposed. 

In dubious strife they darkly closed. 

XV. 

Ill fared it then with Roderick Dhu, 

That on the field his targe he threw. 

Whose brazen studs and tough bull-hide 
Had death so often dashed aside; 

For, trained abroad his arm^ to wield, 
Fitz-James’s blade was sword and shield. 

He practised every pass and ward, *^85 

To thrust, to strike, to feint, to guard; 

While less expert, though stronger far. 

The Gael maintained unequal war. 

Three times in closing strife they stood. 

And thrice the Saxon blade drank blood; 390 

No stinted draught, no scanty tide, 

380. Targe. “A round target of light wood, covered 
with strong leather and studded with brass or iron, was 
a necessary part of a Highlander’s equipment. In charging 
regular troops they received the thrust of the bayonet in 
this buckler, twisted it aside, and used the broadsword 
against the encumbered soldier.”—Scott, 



The Lady of the Lake 


137 


The gushing flood the tartans dyed. 

Fierce Roderick felt the fatal drain, 

And showered his blows like wintry rain; 
And, as firm rock, or castle-roof. 

Against the winter shower is proof. 

The foe, invulnerable still. 

Foiled his wild rage by steady skill; 

Till, at advantage ta’en, his brand 
Forced Roderick’s weapon from his hand, 

And backward borne upon the lea. 

Brought the proud Chieftain to his knee. 

XVI. 

“Now, yield thee, or by Him who made 
The world, thy heart’s blood dyes my blade!“— 
“Thy threats, thy mercy, I defy! 

Let recreant yield, who fears to die.”— 

Like adder darting from his coil. 

Like wolf that dashes through the toil. 

Like mountain-cat who guards her young. 

Full at Fitz-James’s throat he sprung: 
Received, but recked not of a wound. 

And locked his arms his foeman round.— 

Now, gallant Saxon, hold thine own! 

No maiden’s hand is round thee thrown! 

That desperate grasp thy frame might feel. 
Through bars of brass and triple steel!— 
They tug, they strain! down, down, they go. 
The Gael above, Fitz-James below. 

The Chieftain’s gripe his throat compressed. 
His knee was planted on his breast; 

His clotted locks he backward threw, 

Across his brow his hand he drew, 


395 

400 

405 

410 

415 

420 


138 


The Lady of the Lake 


From blood and mist to clear his sight, 
Then gleamed aloft his dagger bright!— 

—But hate and fury ill supplied 
The stream of life’s exhausted tide, 

And all too late the advantage came, 

To turn the odds of deadly game; 

For, while the dagger gleamed on high. 
Reeled soul and sense, reeled brain and eye. 
Down came the blow! but in the heath 
The erring blade found bloodless sheath. 
The struggling foe may now unclasp 
The fainting Chief’s relaxing grasp; 
Unwounded from the dreadful close. 

But breathless all, Fitz-James arose. 

XVII. 

He faltered thanks to heaven for life. 
Redeemed, unhoped, from desperate strife; 
fNlext on his foe his look he cast, 

Whose every gasp appeared his last; 

In Roderick’s gore he dipped the braid,— 
“Poor Blanche! thy wrongs are dearly paid:' 
Yet with thy foe must die or live. 

The praise that Faith and Valour give.”— 
With that he blew a bugle-note. 

Undid the collar from his throat. 

Unbonneted, and by the wave 

Sat down his brow and hands to lave. 

Then faint afar are heard the feet 
Of rushing steeds in gallop fleet; 

The sounds increase, and now are seen 
Four mounted squires in Lincoln green; 
Two who bear lance, and two who lead, 


425 

430 

435 

440 

445 

450 




The Lady of the Lake 


139 


By loosened rein, a saddled steed; 

Each onward held his headlong course, 
And by Fitz-James reined up his horse,— 
With wonder view:ed the bloody spot— 

—“Exclaim not, gallants! question not.— 
You, Herbert and Luffness, alight. 

And bind the wounds of yonder knight; 
Let the grey palfrey bear his weight, 

We destined for a fairer freight, 

And bring him on to Stirling straight; 

I will before at better speed, 

To seek fresh horse and fitting weed. 

The sun rides high;—I must be boune. 

To see the archer-game at noon; 

But lightly Bayard clears the lea.— 

De Vaux and Herries, follow me. 


455 


4G0 


4G5 


XVIII. 

“Stand, Bayard, stand!”—the steed obeyed, 
With arching neck and bended head. 

And glancing eye and quivering ear. 

As if he loved his lord to hear. 

No foot Fitz-James in stirrup stayed. 

No grasp upon the saddle laid. 

But wreathed his left hand in the mane. 
And lightly bounded from the plain. 

Turned on the horse his armed heel. 

And stirred his courage with the steel. 
Bounded the fiery steef in air. 

The rider sate erect and fair, 

Then, like a bolt from steel cross-bow 
Forth launched, along the plain they go. 
They dashed that rapid torrent through, 


470 


475 


480 


140 


The Lady of the Lake 





t 


1 

I 


\ 


STIRLIX(i ('ASTLE. 






































































































The Lady of the Lake 


141 


And up Carhonie’s h‘11 they flew; 

Still at the gallop pricked the Knight, 

His merry-men followed as they might. 

Along thy banks, swift Teith! they ride, 

And in the race,they mock thy tide; 

Torry and Lendrick now are past, 

And Deanstown lies behind them cast; 

They rise, the bannered towers of Doune, 
They ^ink in distant woodland soon; 
Blair-Drummond sees the hoofs strike fire. 
They sweep like breeze through Ochtertyre; 
They mark just glance and disappear 
The lofty brow of ancient Kier; 

They bathe their coursers’ sweltering sides. 
Dark Forth! amid thy sluggish tides. 

And on the opposing shore take ground. 
With plash, with scramble, and with bound. 
Right-hand they leave thy cliffs, Craig-Forth 1 
And soon the bulwark of the North, 

Grey Stirling, with her towers and town. 
Upon their fleet career looked down. 


485 


490 


495 


500 


505 


XIX. 

As up the flinty path they strained. 

Sudden his steed the leader reined; 

A signal to his squire he flung. 

Who instant to his stirrup sprung:— 

“Seest thou, De Vaux, yon woodsman grey, 510 
Who town-ward holds the rocky way, 

492. The hannered towers of Doune. ‘‘The ruins of 
Doune Castle, formerly the residence of the earls of Ment- 
eith, now the property of the Earl of Moray, are situated 
at the confluence of the Ardoch and the Teith.”—Scott. 



142 


The Lady of the Lake 


515 


520 


Of stature tall and poor array? 

Mark’st thou the firm, yet active stride, 

With which he scales the mountain-side? 

Know’st thou from whence he comes, or 
whom?”— 

“No, by my word;—a burly groom 
He seems, who in the field or chase 
A baron’s train would nobly grace.—” 

“Out, out, De Vaux! can fear supply. 

And jealousy, no sharper eye? 

Afar, ere to the hill he drew. 

That stately form and step I knew; 

Like form in Scotland is not seen. 

Treads not such step on Scottish green. 

’T is James of Douglas, by Saint Serle! 

The uncle of the banished Earl. 

Away, away, to court, to show 
The near approach of dreaded foe: 

The King must stand upon his guard; 

Douglas and he must meet prepared.”— 

Then right-hand wheeled their steeds, and straight 
They won the castle’s postern gate. 


525 


530 


XX. 


The Douglas, who had bent his way 
From Cambus-kenneth’s abbey grey, 
Now, as he climbed the rocky shelf. 
Held sad communion with himself:— 
“Yes! all is true my fears could frame: 


535 


526. The uncle of the banished Earl. The Douglas of 
the poem is an imaginary person, a supposed uncle of.tlie 
Earl of Angus. 

532. Postern gate. Rear gate. 



The Lady of the Lake 

A prisoner lies the noble Graeme, 

And fiery Roderick soon will feel 
The vengeance of the royal steel. 

I, only I, can ward their fate,— 

God grant the ransom come not late! 

The Abbess hath her promise given. 

My child shall be the bride of Heaven;— 

—Be pardoned one repining tear! 

For He, who gave her, knows how dear. 

How excellent—but that is by, 

And now my business is—to die. 

—Y"e towers! within whose circuit dread 
A Douglas by his sovereign bled; 

And thou, Q sad and fatal mound! 

That oft hast heard the death-axe sound, 

As on the noblest of the land 
Fell the stern headsman’s bloody hand,— 

The dungeon, block, and nameless tomb 
Prepare—for Douglas seeks his doom! 

—But hark! what blithe and jolly peal 
Makes the Franciscan steeple reel? 

And see! upon the crowded street, 

.>43. T/k- bride of Jicai-vn. A min. 

550. A Douffias bi/ his sovereign bled. ‘‘The fate of 

William, eighth Earl of Douglas, whom .James II stabbed in 
Stirling Castle with his own hand and while under his 
royal safe conduct, is familiar to all who read Scottish 
history.—Scott. • 

551. O sad and fatal nmund. “An eminence on the 
northeast of the Castle (Stirling) where state criminals 
were executed. Stirling was often ixilluted with noble 
blood.’*—Scott. 

558. Franciscan- steegle. A church of the order of St. 
Francis, a Roman Catholic order, founded the early part 
of the thirteenth century. 


143 


54C» 


545 


550 


555 



144 


The Lady of the Lake 


In motley groups what masquers meet! ^^0 i 

Banner and pageant, pipe and drum, i 

And merry morrice-dancers come. I 

I guess, by all this quaint array. 

The burghers hold their sports to-day. i 

James will be there; he loves such show, 565 

Where the good yeoman bends his bow. 

And the tough wrestler foils his foe. 

As well as where, in proud career. 

The highborn filter shivers spear. j 

ril follow to the Castle-park, 570 i 

And play my prize;—King James shall mark j 

If age has tamed these sinews stark, | 

Whose force so oft, in happier days, 

His boyish wonder loved to praise.”— I 

XXL I 

The Castle gates were open flung, 575 | 

The quivering draw-bridge rocked and rung. 

And echoed loud the flinty street 
Beneath the coursers’ clattering feet. 

As slowly down the steep descent 
Fair Scotland’s King and nobles went, 580 

While all along the crowded way 
Was jubilee and loud huzza. 

And ever James was bending low. 

To his white jennet’s saddle bow. 


564. The Imrghers hold, their sports to-day. “Every 
burgh of Scotland of the least note, hut more especially 
the considerable towns, had their solemn play, or festival, 
when feats of archery were exhibited and prizes distribu¬ 
ted to those who excelled in wrestling, hurling the bar, 
and the other gymnastic exercises of the period.”—Scott. 





The Lady of the Lake 


145 


Doffing his cap to city dame, 585 ' 

Who smiled and blushed for pride and shame. 

And well the simperer might be vain,— 

He chose the fairest of the train. 

Gravely he greets each city sire, 

Commends each pageant’s quaint attire, 590 

Gives to the dancers thanks aloud. 

And smiles and nods upon the crowfd. 

Who rend the heavens with their acclaims. 

“Long live the Commons’ King, King James!”— 
Behind the King thronged peer and knight, 595 
And noble dame and damsel bright. 

Whose fiery steeds ill brooked the stay 
Of the steep street and crowded way. 

—^But in the train you might discern 

Dark lowering brow and visage stern; 600 

There nobles mourned their pride restrained. 

And the mean burgher’s joys disdained; 

And chiefs, who, hostage for their clan. 

Were each from home a banished man, 

There thought upon their own grey tower, 605 
Their waving woods, their feudal power. 

And deemed themselves a shameful part 
Of pageant which they cursed in heart. 


594. The Commons' King. Scott has explained that 
one reason for the popularity of James V., for his being 
called the Commons’ King, was his willingness to take part 
in the popular amusements. 

606. Feudal poiver. The feudal lord had power, espe¬ 
cially during times of war, to command the services of his 
vassals. 



146 


The Lady of the Lake 


XXII. 

Now, in the Castle-park, drew out 
Their checkered bands the joyous rout. 
There morricers, with bell at heel, 

And blade in hand, their mazes wheel; 
But chief, beside the butts, there stand 
Bold Robin Hood and all his band,— 
Friar Tuck with quarterstaff and cowl. 
Old Scathelocke with his surly scowl. 
Maid M'arian, fair as ivory bone. 
Scarlet, and Mutch, and Little John; 
Their bugles challenge all that will. 

In archery to prove their skill. 

The Douglas bent a bow of might,— 

His first shaft centred in the white. 

And when in turn he shot again. 

His second split the first in twain. 

From the King’s hand must Douglas take 
A silver dart, the archer’s stake; 

Fondly he watched, with watery eye. 
Some answering glance of sympathy,— 
No kind emotion made reply! 

Indifferent as to archer wight. 

The monarch gave the arrow bright. 


(UO 


615 


620 


625 


630 


614. RoUn Hood. “The exhibition of this renowned 
outlaw and his hand was a favorite frolic at such festivals 
as we are describing,”—Scott. 

631. “His (the king’s) implacability (towards the fam¬ 
ily of Douglas) did also appear in his carriage towards 
Archibald of Kilspindie, whom he. when he was a child, 
loved singularly well for his ability of body, and was wont 
to call him his Grey-Steill. Archibald, being banished into 
England, could not well comixjrt with the humour of that 
nation, which he thought to be too proud, and that they 



The Lady of the Lake 


147 


XXIII. 

Now, clear the Ring! for, hand to hand. 

The manly wrestlers take their stand. 

Two o’er the rest superior rose. 

And proud demanded mightier foes, 635 

Nor called in vain; for Douglas came. 

— For life is Hugh of Larbert lame; 

bad too high a conceit of themselves, joined with a contempt 
and despising of all others. Wherefore, being wearied of 
that life, and remembering the king’s favour of old to¬ 
wards him, he determined to try the king’s mercifulness 
and clemency. So he comes into Scotland, and taking oc¬ 
casion of the king’s hunting in the park of Stirling, he casts 
himself to be in his way, as he was coming home to the 
castle. So soon as the king saw him afar off, ere he came 
near, he guessed it was he, and said to one of his courtiers, 
yonder is my Grey-Steill, Archibald of Kelspindie, if he be 
alive. The other answered that it could not be he, and 
that he durst not come into the king’s presence. The king 
approaching, he fell upon his knees and craved pardon, 
and promised from thenceforward to abstain from meddling 
in public affairs and to lead a quiet and private life. The 
king went by without giving him any answer, and trotted 
a good round pace up the hill. Kilspindie followed, and, 
though he wore on him a secret, or shirt of mail, for his 
particular enemies, was as soon at the castle gate as the 
king. There he sat him down upon a stone without, and 
entreated some of the king’s servants for a cup of drink, 
being weary and thirsty; l)ut they, fearing the king’s dis¬ 
pleasure, durst give Him none. When the king was set 
at his dinner, he asked what he had done, what he had 
said, and whither he had gone? It was told him that he 
had desired a cup of drink, and had gotten none. The 
king reproved them very sharply for their discourtesy, and 
told them, that if he had not taken an oath that no Douglas 
should ever serve him, he would have received him into 
his service, for he had seen him sometime a man of great 
ability. — Hume of Godscroft, 11,107. 



148 The Lady of the Lake 

Scarce better John of Alloa’s fare, 

Whom senseless home his comrades bear. 
Prize of the wrestling match, the King 
To Douglas gave a golden ring, 

While coldly glanced his eye of blue, 

As frozen drop of wintry dew. 

Douglas would speak, but in his breast 
His struggling soul his words suppressed; 
Indignant then he turned him where 
Their arms the brawny yeomen bare. 

To hurl the massive bar in air. 

When each his utmost strength had shown, 
The Douglas rent an earth-fast stone 
From its deep bed, then heaved it high. 
And sent the fragment through the sky, 

A rood beyond the farthest mark;— 

And still in Stirling’s royal park. 

The grey-haired sires, who know the past, 
To strangers point the Douglas-cast, 

And moralize on the decay 
Of Scottish strength in modern day. 

XXIV. • 

The vale with loud applauses rang, 

The Ladies’ Rock sent back the clang, 

The King, with look unmoved, bestowed 
A purse well filled with pieces broad. 
Indignant smiled the Douglas proud. 

And threw the gold among the crowd. 

Who now, with anxious wonder, scan. 

And sharper glance, the dark-grey man; 
Till whispers rose among the throng. 

That heart so free, and hand so strong, 


640 

645 

650 

655 

660 

665 


The Lady of the Lake 


149 


Must to the Douglas blood belong: 

The old men marked, and shook the head, 

To see his hair with silver spread. 

And winked aside, and told each son 
Of feats upon the English done. 

Ere Douglas of the stalwart hand 
Was exiled from his native land. 

The women praised his stately form, 

Though wrecked by many a winter’s storm; 
The youth with awe and wonder saw 
His strength surpassing Nature’s law. 

Thus judged, as is their wont, the crowd. 

Till murmurs rose to clamours loud. 

But not a glance from that proud ring 
Of peers who circled round the King, 

With Douglas held communion kind. 

Or called the banished man to mind; 

No, not from those who, at the chase. 

Once held his side the honoured place. 

Begirt his board, and, in the field. 

Found safety underneath his shield; 

For he, whom royal eyes disown. 

When was his form to courtiers known! 

XXV. 

The Monarch saw the gambols flag, 

And bade let loose a gallant stag. 

Whose pride, the holiday to crown. 

Two favourite greyhounds should pull down. 
That venison free and Bourdeaux wine 
Might serve the archery to dine. ^ 

But Lufra,—whom from Douglas’s side 
Nor bribe nor threat could e’er divide, 


670 

675 

680 

685 

690 

695 


150 


The Lady of the Lake 


The fleetest hound in all the North,— 
;Brave Lufra saw, and darted forth. 

She left the royal hounds mid-way. 

And, dashing on the antlered prey. 

Sunk her sharp muzzle in his flank. 

And deep the flowing life-blood drank. 

The King’s stout huntsman saw the sport 
By strange intruder broken short. 

Came up, and, with his leash unbound. 

In anger struck the noble hound. 

—The Douglas had endured, that morn. 
The King’s cold look, the nobles’ scorn. 
And last, and worst to spirit proud. 

Had borne the pity of the crowd; 

But Lufra had been fondly bred. 

To share his board, to watch his bed. 

And oft would Ellen, Lufra'’s neck. 

In maiden glee, with garlands deck; 

They were such play-mates, that with name 
Of Lufra, Ellen’s image came. 

His stifled wrath is brimming high. 

In darkened brow and flashing eye;— 

As waves before the bark divide. 

The crowd gave way before his stride; 
Needs but a buffet and no more. 

The groom lies senseless in his gore. 

Such blow no other hand could deal. 
Though gauntleted in glove of steel. 

XXVI. 


700 

705 

710 

715 

720 

725 


Then clamoured loud the royal train. 

And brandished swords and staves amain. 
But stern the Baron’s warning—“Back! 


730 


The Lady of the Lake 


Back, on your lives, ye menial pack! 

Beware the Douglas.—Yes! behold, 

King James, the Douglas, doomed of old. 

And vainly sought for near and far, 

A victim to atone the war, 

A willing victim, now attends. 

Nor craves thy grace but for his friends.”—- 
‘Thus is my clemency repaid? 

Presumptuous Lord!” the Monarch said; 

“Of thy mis-proud ambitious clan. 

Thou, James of Bothwell, wert the man, 

The only man, in whom a foe 
My woman-mercy would not know: 

But shall a Monarch’s presence brook 
Injurious blow, and haughty look?— 

What ho! the Captain of our Guard! 

Give the offender fitting ward.— 

Break off the sports T”—for tumult rose, 

And yeomen ’gan to bend their bows,— 
“Break off the sports!” he said, and frowned, 
“And bid our horsemen clear the ground.”— 

XXVIL 

Then uproar wild and misarray 
Marred the fair form of festal day. 

The horsemen pricked among the crowd. 
Repelled by threats and insult loud; 

To earth are borne the old and weak, 

The timorous fly, the women shriek; 

With flint, with shaft, with staff, with bar. 
The hardier urge tumultuous war. 

At once round Douglas darkly sweep 
The royal spears in circle deep, 


152 


The Lady of the Lake 


And slowly scale the path-way steep: 

While on the rear in thunder pour 
The rabble with disordered roar. 

With grief the noble Douglas saw 
The Commons rise against the law, 

And to the leading soldier said,— 

“Sir John of Hyndford! T was my blade 
That knighthood on thy shoulder laid; 

For that good deed, permit me then '^'^0 

A word with these misguided men.— 

XXVIII. 

“Hear, gentle friends! ere yet, for me. 

Ye break the bands of fealty. 

My life, my honour, and my cause, 

I tender free to Scotland’s laws. 775 

Are these so weak as must require 
The aid of your misguided ire? 

Or, if I suffer causeless wrong. 

Is then my selfish rage so strong. 

My sense of public weal so low, 780 

That, for mean vengeance on a foe. 

Those cords of love I should unbind. 

Which knit my country and my kind? 

O' no! Believe, in yonder tower 

It will not soothe my captive hour, 785 

To know those spears our foes should dread. 

For me in kindred gore are red; 

To know, in fruitless braw;l begun. 

For me, that mother wails her son; 

For me, that widow’s mate expires ; 790 

For me, that orphans weep their sires ; 

That patriots mourn insulted laws, 



The Lady of the Lake 


153 


And curse the Douglas for the cause. 

0 let your patience ward such ill, 

And keep your right to love me still!’ — 

XXIX. 

The crowd’s wild fury sunk again 
In tears, as tempests melt in rain. 

With lifted hands and eyes, they prayed 
For blessings on his generous head. 

Who for his country felt alone, 

And prized her blood beyond his own. 

Old men, upon the verge of life, 

Bles 3 ed him who stayed the civil strife; 
And mothers held their babes on high. 
The self-devoted Chief to spy. 

Triumphant over wrongs and ire. 

To whom the prattlers owed a sire: 

Even the rough soldier’s heart was moved; 
As if behind 3 ome bier beloved. 

With trailing arms and drooping head. 

The Douglas up the hill he led. 

And at the Castle’s battled verge. 

With sighs, resigned his honoured charge. 

XXX. 

The offended Monarch rode apart. 

With bitter thought and swelling heart. 
And would not now vouchsafe again 
Through Stirling streets to lead his train. 

“0 Lennox, who would wish to rule 
This changeling crowd, this common fool? 
Hear’st thou,” he said, “the loud acclaim. 


795 

800 

805 

810 

815 


820 


154 


T'HE Lady of the Lake 









KODKRIOK DIIU'S WAT(^H TOWER 
















The Lady of the Lake 


155 


With which they shout the Douglas name? 
With like acclaim, the vulgar throat 
Strained for King James their morning note; 
With like acclaim they hailed the day 
When first I broke the Douglas sway; 

And like acclaim would Douglas greet, 

If he could hurl me from my seat. 

Who o'er the herd would wish to reign. 
Fantastic, fickle, fierce, and vain? 

Vain as the leaf upon the stream, 

And fickle as a changeful dream; 

Fantastic as a woman’s mood. 

And fierce as Frenzy’s fevered blood. 

Thou many-headed monster-thing, 

0 who would wish to be thy king!— 


825 


830 


835 


XXXI. 

“But soft! what messenger of speed 
Spurs hitherward his panting steed? 

I guess his cognizance afar— 

What from our cousin, John of Miar?”— 
“He prays, my liege, your sports keep bound 
Within the safe and guarded ground: 

For some foul purpose yet unknown,— 
Most sure for evil to the throne,— 

The outlawed Chieftain, Roderick Dhu, 

Has summoned his rebellious crew; 

’T is said, in James of Bothwell’s aid 
These loose banditti stand arrayed. 

The Earl of Mar, this morn, from Doune, 

To break their muster marched, and soon 
Your grace will hear of battle fought; 

But earnestly the Earl besought, 


840 


845 


850 


156 


The Lady of the Lake 


Till for such danger he provide, 

With scanty train you will not ride/'— 

XXXII. 

“Thou warn’st me I have done amis3,— 

I should have earlier looked to this: 

I lost it in this bustling day. 

—Retrace with speed thy former way; 
Spare not for spoiling of thy steed, 

The best of mine shall be thy meed. 

Say to our faithful Lord of Mar, 

We do forbid the intended war; 

Roderick, thi^ morn, in single fight, 

Was made our prisoner by a knight; 

And Douglas hath himself and cause 
Submitted to our kingdom’s laws. 

The tidings of their leaders lost 
Will soon dissolve the mountain host. 
Nor would we that the vulgar feel. 

For their Chief’s crimes, avenging steel. 
Bear Mar our message, Bracco; fly!”— 
He turned his steed,—“My liege, I hie,— 
Yet, ere I crass this lily lawn, 

I fear the broad-swords will be drawn.”— 
The turf the flying courser spurned. 

And to his towers the King returned. 

XXXIII. 

Ill with King James’s mood that day. 
Suited gay feast and minstrel lay; 

Soon were dismissed the courtly throng. 
And soon cut short the festal song. 

Nor less upon the saddened town 


855 

860 

865 

870 

875 

880 


The Lady op the Lake 


157 


The evening sunk in sorrow down. 

The burghers spoke of civil jar, 

Of rumoured feuds and mountain war, 

Of Moray, Mar, and Roderick Dhu, 

All up in arms;—the Douglas too. 

They mourned him pent within the hold, 
“Where stout Earl William was of old,”— 
And there his word the speaker stayed, 
And finger on his lip he laid. 

Or pointed to his dagger blade. 

But jaded horsemen, from the west. 

At evening to the Castle pressed; 

And busy talkers said they bore ’ 

Tidings of fight on Katrine’s shore; 

At noon the deadly fray begun. 

And lasted till the set of sun. 

Thus giddy rumour shook the town. 

Till closed the Night her pennons brown. 


CANTO SIXTH 

THE GUARD-ROOM 

1 . 

The sun, awakening, through the smoky air 
Of the dark city casts a sullen glance. 

Rousing each caitiff to his task of care. 

Of sinful man the sad inheritance; 

Summoning revellers from the lagging dance, 5 
Scaring the prowling robber to his den; 

Gilding on battled tower the wardei^’s lance. 

And warning student pale to leave his pen, 

And yield his drowsy eyes to the kind nurse of men. 

What various scenes, and, 0! what scenes of woe, 10 
Are witnessed by that red and struggling beam! 
The fevered patient, from his pallet low, 

Through crowded hospital beholds it stream; 

The ruined maiden trembles at its gleam. 

The debtor wakes to thought of gyve and jail, 15 
The love-lorn wretch starts from tormenting dream; 
The wakeful mother, by the glimmering pale, 

Trims her sick infant’s couch, and soothes his feeble 
wail. 


11 . 

At dawn the towers of Stirling rang 
With soldier-step and weapon-clang. 

While drums, with rolling note, foretell 
Relief to weary sentinel. 

Through narrow loop and casement barred. 


22. Sentinel. Scott used the old form centinel here. 
[158] 



The Lady of the Lake 159 

The sunbeams sought the Court of Guard, 

And, struggling with the smoky air. 

Deadened the torches’ yellow glare. 

In comfortless alliance shone 

The lights through arch of blackened stone, 

And showed wild shapes in garb of war. 

Faces deformed with beard and scar, 

All haggard from the midnight watch. 

And fevered with the stern debauch; 

For the oak table’s massive board. 

Flooded with wine, with fragments stored. 

And breakers drained, and cups o’erthrown. 
Showed in what sport the night had flown. 
Some, weary, snored on floor and bench; 

Some laboured still their thirst to quench; 
Some, chilled with watching, spread their hands 
O’er the huge chimney’s dying brands. 

While round them, or beside them flung. 

At every step their harness rung. 

III. 

These drew not for their fields the sword. 

Like tenants of a feudal lord. 

Nor owned the patriarchal claim 
Of Chieftain in their leader’s name; 
Adventurers they, from far who roved, 

43. These dreiv not for their fields the sword. “The 
Scottish armies consisted chiefly of the nobility and bar¬ 
ms, with their vassals, who held lands under them, for 
military service by themselves and their tenants. * * * James 
y. seems first to have introduced, in addition to the militia 
furnished from these sources, the service of a small num¬ 
ber of mercenaries, who formed a bodyguard, called the 
Foot-Band.”—Scott. 


25 

30 

35 

40 

45 



160 


The Lady of the Lake 


To live by battle which they loved. 

There the Italian’s clouded face, 

The swarthy Spaniard’s there you trace; 50 

The mountain-loving Switzer there 
More freely breathed in mountain-air; 

The Fleming there despised the soil, 

That paid so ill the labourer’s toil; 

Their rolls showed French and German name; 55 
And merry England’s exiles came, 

To share, with ill-concealed disdain, 

Of Scotland’s pay the scanty gain. 

All brave in arms, well trained to wield 

The heavy halberd, brand, and shield; 00 

In camps licentious, wild, and bold; 

In pillage, fierce and uncontrolled; 

And now, by holytide and feast. 

From rules of discipline released. 

IV. 

They held debate of bloody fray, 05 

Fought ’twixt Loch Katrine and Achray. 

Fierce was their speech, and, mid their words. 
Their hands oft grappled to their swords; 

Nor sunk their tone to spare the ear 

Of wounded comrades groaning near, 70 

Whose mangled limbs, and bodies gored. 

Bore token of the mountain sword. 

Though, neighbouring to the Court of Guard, 

Their prayers and feverish wails were heard; 

Sad burthen to the ruffian joke, 75 

And savage oath by fury spoke!— 

At length up started John of Brent, 


53. Fleming. An inhabitant of Flanders, Belgium. 




The Lady of the Lake 


161 


A yeoman from the banks of Trent; 

A stranger to respect or fear, 

In peace a chaser of the deer, 80 

In host a hardy mutineer. 

But still the boldest of the crew, 

When deed of danger was to do. 

He grieved, that day, their games cut short. 

And marred the dicer’s brawling sport, 85 

And shouted loud, “Renew the bowl! 

And, while a merry catch I troll. 

Let each the buxom chorus bear, 

Like brethren of the brand and spear.”— 

V. 

SOLDIER’S SONG 

Our vicar still preaches that Peter and Poule 90 

Laid a swinging long curse on the bonny brown bowl. 
That there’s wrath and despair in the jolly black jack, 
And the seven deadly sins in a flagon of sack; 

Yet whoop, Barnaby! off with thy liquor, 

Drink upsees out, and a fig for the vicar! 95 

Our vicar he calls it damnation to sip 
The ripe ruddy dew of a woman’s dear lip, 

Says that Beelzebub lurks in her kerchief so sly, 

And Apollyon shoots darts from her merry black eye; 
Yet whoop, Jack! kiss Gillian the quicker 100 

Till she bloom like a rose, and a fig for the vicar! 

Our vicar thus preaches—and why should he not? 


92. Black-jack. A drinking can of black leather. 
95. Drink upsees out. Drink deep. 



162 


The Lady of the Lake 


For the dues of his cure are the placket and pot; 
And ’t is right of his office poor laymen to lurch, 
Who infringe the domains of our good Mother 
Church. 

Yet whoop, bully-boys! off with your liquor. 

Sweet Marjorie’s the word, and a fig for the vicar! 

VI. 

The warder’s challenge, heard without. 

Stayed in mid-roar the merry shout, 

A soldier to the portal went,— 

“Here is old Bertram, sirs, of Ghent; 

And,—beat for jubilee the drum! 

A maid and minstrel with him come.”— 
Bertram, a Fleming, grey and scarred. 

Was entering now the Court of Guard, 

A harper with him, and, in plaid 
All muffled close, a mountain maid. 

Who backward shrunk to ’scape the view 
Of the loose scene and boisterous crew. 

“What news?” they roared:—“I only know. 
From noon t’ll eve we fought with foe, 

As wild and as untamable 

As the rude mountains where they dwell. 

On both sides store of blood is lost. 

Nor much success can either boast.”— 

“But whence thy captives, friend? Such spoil 
As theirs must needs reward thy toil. 

Old dost thou wax, and wars grow sharp: 
Thou now hast glee-maiden and harp. 

lO.S. Cure. Office as priest. 

108. Placket and pot. Women and wine. 

104. Lurch. Deceive, 


105 

110 

115 

120 

125 



The Lady of the Lake 


163 


Get thee an ape, and trudge the land, 

The leader of a juggler band.” — 

VIL 

“No, comrade; — no such fortune mine. 
After the fight, these sought our line, 

That aged harper and the girl. 

And, having audience of the Earl, 

Mar bade I should purvey them steed. 

And bring them hitherward with speed. 
Forbear your mirth and rude alarm. 

For none shall do them shame or harm.” — 
“Hear ye his boast!” cried John of Brent, 
Ever to strife and jangling bent; 

“Shall he strike doe beside our lodge. 

And yet the jealous niggard grudge 
To pay the forester his fee? 

ITl have my share howe’er it be, 

Despite of Mnray, Mar, or thee.” — 

Bertram his forward step withstood; 

And, burning in his vengeful mood, 

Old Allan, though unfit for strife, 

Laid hand upon his dagger-knife; 

But Ellen boldly stepped between. 

And dropped at once the tartan screen: — 
So, from his morning cloud, appears 
The sun of May, through summer tears. 

The savage soldiery, amazed. 

As on descended angel gazed; 

Even hardy Brent, abashed and tamed. 
Stood half admiring, half ashamed. 


130 

135 

140 

145 

150 

155 


164 


The Lady of the Lake 


VIII. 

Boldly she spoke,—“Soldiers, attend! 

My father was the soldier’s friend; 
Cheered him in camps, in marches led. 
And with him in the battle bled. 

Not from the valiant, or the strong. 
Should exile’s daughter suffer wrong.”— 
Answered De Brent, most forward still 
In every feat or good or ill,— 

“I shame me of the part I played: 

And thou an outlaw’s child, poor maid! 
An outlaw I by forest laws, 

And merry Needwood knows the cause. 
Poor Rose,—if Rose be living now,” 

He wiped his iron eye and brow,— 

“Must bear such age, I think, as thou.—■ 
Hear ye, my mates;—I go to call 
The Captain of our watch to hall: 

There lies my halberd on the floor; 

And he that steps my halberd o’er. 

To do the maid injurious part. 

My shaft shall quiver in his heart!— 
Beware loose speech, or jesting rough: 

Ye all know John de Brent. Enough.”— 

IX. 

Their Captain came, a gallant young,— 
(Of Tullibardine’s house he sprung). 

Nor wore he yet the spurs of knight; 

Gay was his mien, his humour light. 

And, though by courtesy controlled. 
Forward his speech, his bearing bold. 


160 

165 

170 

175 

180 

185 


The Lady of the Lake 


165 


190 


195 


The high-born maiden ill could brook 
The scanning of his curious look 
And dauntless eye;—and yet, in sooth, 

Young Lewis was a generous youth; 

But Ellen’s lovely face and mien, 

Ill suited to the garb and scene, 

Might lightly bear construction strange. 

And give loose fancy scope to range. 

“Welcome to Stirling towers, fair maid! 

Come ye to seek a champion’s aid. 

On palfrey white, with harper hoar. 

Like errant damosel of yore? 

Does thy high quest a knight require. 

Or may the venture suit a squire?”— 

Her dark eye flashed;—she paused and sighed,— 
“0 what have I to do with pride!— 

—Through scenes of sorrow, shame, and strife, 

A suppliant for a father’s life, 205 

I crave an audience of the King. 

Behold, to back my suit, a ring. 

The royal pledge of grateful claims. 

Given by the Monarch to Fitz-James.”— 


200 


X. 

The signet-ring young Lewis took. 

With deep respect and altered look; 

And said,—“This ring our duties own; 
And, pardon, if to worth unknown, 

In semblance mean obscurely veiled, 

Lady, in aught my folly failed. 

Soon as the day flings wide his gates. 

The King shall know what suitor waits. 
Please you, meanwhile, in fitting bower 


210 


215 


166 


The Lady of the Lake 


Repose you till his waking hour; 

Female attendance shall obey 
Y^our best, for service or array. 

Permit I marshal you the way.”— 

But, ere she followed, with the grace 
And open bounty of her race. 

She bade her slender purse be shared 
Among the soldiers of the guard. 

The rest with thanks their guerdon took; 
But Brent, with shy and awkward look. 

On the reluctant maiden’s hold 
Forced bluntly back the proffered gold;— 
“Forgive a haughty English heart. 

And 0 forget its ruder part! 

The vacant purse shall be my share. 

Which in my barret-cap I’ll bear, 

Perchance, in jeopardy of war. 

Where gayer crests may keep afar.”— 

With thanks,—^’t was all she could,—the maid 
His rugged courtesy repaid. 

XL 

When Ellen forth with Lewis went, 

Allan made suit to John of Brent:— 

“My lady safe, 0 let your grace 
Give me to see my master’s face! 

His minstrel I,~to share his doom 
Bound from the cradle to the tomb. 

Tenth in descent, since first my sires 
Waked for his noble house their lyres. 

Nor one of all the race was known 
But prized its weal above their owm. 

With the Chief’s birth begins our care; 


220 

225 

230 

235 

240 

245 


The Lady of the Lake 


167 


Our harp must soothe the infant heir, 
Teach the youth tale3 of fight, and grace 
His earliest feat of field or chase; 

In peace, in war, our rank we keep, 
We»cheer his board, we soothe his sleep. 
Nor leave him till we pour our verse, — 

A doleful tribute! — o’er his hearse. 
Then let me share his captive lot; 

It is my right — deny it not!”— 

“Little we reck,” said John of Brent, 
“We Southern men, of long descent; 

Nor wot we how a name — a word— 
Makes clansmen vassals to a lord: 

Yet kind my noble landlord'’s part, — 

God bless the house of Beaudesert! 

And, but I loved to drive the deer. 

More than to guide the labouring steer, 

I had not dwelt an outcast here. 

Come, good old Minstrel, follow me; 

Thy Lord and Chieftain shalt thou see.”- 


250 


200 


205 


XII. 

Then, from a rusted iron hook, 

A bunch of ponderous keys he took. 

Lighted a torch, and Allan led 
Through grated arch and passage dread. 
Portals they passed, where, deep within. 
Spoke prisoner’s moan, and fetters’ din; 
Through rugged vaults, where, loosely stored, 
Lay wheel, and axe, and headsman’s sword. 
And many an hideous engine grim, 

For wrenching joint, and crushing limb. 

By artists formed, who deemed it shame 


270 


275 


28(> 


168 


The Lady of the Lai^e 


And sin to give their work a name. 

They halted at a low-browed porch, 

And Brent to Allan gave the torch, 

While bolt and chain he backward rolled. 

And made the bar unhasp its hold. » 285 

They entered:—’t was a prison-room 
Of stern security and gloom. 

Yet not a dungeon; for the day 
Through lofty gratings found its way. 

And rude and antique garniture 290 

Decked the sad walls and oaken floor 
Such as the rugged days of old 
Deemed lit for captive noble’s hold. 

“Here,” said De Brent, “thou mayst remain 
Till the Leech visit him again. 295 

Strict is his charge, the warders tell, ’ 

To tend the noble prisoner well.” — 

Retiring then the bolt he drew. 

And the lock’s murmurs growled anew. 

Roused at the sound, from lowly bed 300 

A captive feebly raised his head; 

The wondering Minstrel looked, and knew — 

Not his dear lord, but Roderick Dhu! 

For, come from where Clan-Alpine fought, 

They, erring, deemed the Chief he sought. 305 

XIII. 

As the tall ship, whose lofty prore 
Shall never stem the billows more. 

Deserted by her gallant band, 

Amid the breakers lies astrand, — 

So, on his couch, lay Roderick Dhu! 

And.oft his fevered limbs he threw 


310 


The Lady of the Lake 


169 


In toss abrupt, as when her sides 
Lie rocking in the advancing tides, 

That shake her frame with ceaseless beat. 

Yet cannot heave her from her seat; — 315 

0! how unlike her course at sea! 

Or his free step on hill and lea! — 

Soon as the Minstrel he could scan, 

— “What of thy lady?—of my clan? — 

My mother?—Douglas?—tell me all! 320 

Have they been ruined in my fall? 

Ah, yes! or wherefore art thou here! 

Yet speak, — speak boldly,—do not fear.” — 

(For Allan, who his mood well knew, 

Was choked with grief and terror too.) — 325 

“Who fought — who fled?^ — Old man, be brief; — 
Some might,—for they had lost their Chief. 

Who basely live? — who bravely died?” — 

“0, calm thee. Chief!” the Minstrel cried, 

“Ellen is safe”;—“For that, thank Heaven!” — 330 
“And hopes are for the Douglas given; — 

The Lady Margaret too is well. 

And, for thy clan,—on field or fell. 

Has never harp of minstrel told, 

Of combat fought so true and bold. 335 

Thy stately Pine is yet unbent. 

Though many a goodly bough is rent.” — 

XIV. 

The Chieftain reared his form on high. 

And feveFs fire was in his eye; 

But ghastly, pale, and livid streaks 340 

Chequered his swarthy brow and cheeks. 

— “Hark, Minstrel! I have heard thee play. 


170 


The Lady of the Lake 


With measure bold, on festal day, 

In yon lone isle . . . again where ne’er 
Shall harper play, or warrior hear! . . . 

That stirring air that peals on high. 

O’er Dermid’s race our victory.— 

Strike it!—and then, (for well thou can 3 t). 
Free from thy minstrel-spirit glanced. 

Fling me the picture of the fight. 

When met my clan the Saxon might. 

I’ll listen, till my fancy hears 
The clang of sword3, the crash of spears! 
These grates, these walls, shall vanish then. 
For the fair field of fighting men. 

And my free spirit burst away. 

As if it soared from batt,le-fray.”— 

The trembling Bard with awe obeyed,— 
Slow on the harp his hand he laid; 

But 30 on remembrance of the sight 
He witnessed from the mountain-height, 
With what old Bertram told at night. 
Awakened the full power of song. 

And bore him in career along;— 

As shallop launched on riveFs fide. 

That slow and fearful leaves the side. 

But, when it feels the middle stream. 

Drives downward 3 wift as lightning’s beam. 


345 

350 

355 

300 

365 


The Lady of the Lake 


171 


XV. 

BATTLE OF BEAL' AN DUINE 

“The Minstrel came once more to view 
The eastern ridge of Benvenue, 370 

For, ere he parted, he would say 
Farewell to lovely Loch Achray— 

Where shall he find, in foreign land. 

So lone a lake, so sweet a strand!— 

There is no breeze upon the fern, 375 

No ripple on the lake, 

Upon her eyrie nods the erne, 

The deer has sought the brake; 

The Bmall birds will not sing aloud, 

The springing trout lies still, 380 

So darkly glooms yon thunder-cloud. 

That swathes, as with a purple shroud, 

Benledi’s distant hill. 

Is it the thunder’s solemn sound 

That mutters deep and dread, 385 

Or echoes from the groaning ground 
The warrior’s measured tread? 

Is it the lightning’s quivering glance 
That on the thicket streams. 

Or do they flash on spear and lance 390 

The sun’s retiring beams? 

—I see the dagger-crest of Mar, 

I see the Moray’s silver star. 

Wave o’er the head of Saxon war. 

That up the lake comes winding far! 395 


Battle of BeaV ati Duine. ‘'A skirmish actually took 
place at a pass thus called in the Trosachs, and closed with 
the remarkable incident mentioned in the text. It was 
greatly posterior in date to the reign of James V.”—Scott. 



172 The Lady of the Lake 

To hero boune for battle-strife, 

Or bard of martial lay, 

'T were worth ten years of peaceful life, 
One glance at their array! 

XVI. 

“Their light-armed archers far and near 
Surveyed the tangled ground. 

Their centre ranks, with pike and spear, 

A twilight forest frowned. 

Their barbed horsemen, in the rear. 

The stern battalia crowned. 

No cymbal clashed, no clarion rang, 

Still were the pipe and drum; 

Save heavy tread, and armour’s clang, 

The sullen march was dumb. 

There breathed no wind their crests to shake, 
Or wave their flags abroad; 

Scarce the frail aspen seemed to quake, 

That shadowed o’er their road. 

Their vaward scouts no tiding bring. 

Can rouse no lurking foe. 

Nor spy a trace of living thing. 

Save when they stirred the roe; 

The host moves, like a deep-sea wave. 
Where rise no rocks its pride to brave. 
High-swelling, dark, and slow. 

The lake is passed, and now they gain 
A narrow and a broken plain. 

Before the Trosachs’ rugged jaws; 

And here the horse and spear-men pause. 
While to explore the dangerous glen. 

Dive through the pass the archer-men. 


400 

405 

410 

415 

420 

425 


The Lady of the Lake 


173 


XVIL 

“At once there rose so wild a yell 
Within that dark and narrow dell, 

As all the fiends, from heaven that fell, 

Had pealed the banner-cry of hell! 

Forth from the pass in tumult driven. 
Like chaff before the wind of heaven. 

The archery appear: 

For life! for life! their flight they ply— 
And shriek, and shout, and battle-cry. 

And plaids and bonnets waving high. 

And broad-swords flashing to the sky. 

Are maddening in the rear. 

Onward they drive, in dreadful race. 
Pursuers and pursued; 

Before that tide of flight and chase. 

How shall it keep its rooted place. 

The spear-men’s twilight wood? 

—‘Down, down,’ cried Mar, ‘your lances down! 
Bear back both friend and foe!’ 

Like reeds before the tempest’s frown. 
That serried grove of lances brown 
At once lay levelled low; 

And closely shouldering side to side. 

The bristling ranks the onset bide.— 

—‘We’ll quell the savage mountaineer. 

As their Tinchel cows the game! 

They come as fleet as forest deer. 

We’ll drive them back as tame.’— 

XVIII. 

“Bearing before them, in their course. 

The relics of the archer force, 


430 

435 

440 

450 

455 


174 


The Lady of the Lake 


Like wave with crest of sparkling foam, 
Right onward did Clan-Alpine come. 
Above the tide, each broad-sword bright 
Was brandishing like beam of light, 
Each targe was dark below; 

And with the ocean’s mighty swing. 
When heaving to the tempest’s wing, 
They hurled them on the foe. 

I heard the lance’s shivering crash, 

I heard the broad-sword’s deadly clang, 

As when the whirlwind rends the ash; 

As if an hundred anvils rang! 

But Moray wheeled his rear-ward rank 
Of horsemen on Clan-Alpine’s flank,— 

—‘My banner-man, advance! 

I see,’ he cried, ‘their column shake.— 

Now, gallants! for your ladies’ sake, 

Upon them with the lance!’— 

The horsemen dashed among the rout. 

As deer break through the broom; 

Their steeds are stout, their swords are out, 
They soon make lightsome room. 
Clan-Alpine’s best are backward borne— 
Where, where was Roderick then! 

One blast upon his bugle-horn 
Were worth a thousand men! 

And refluent through the pass of fear 
The battle’s tide was poured; 

Vanished the Saxon’s struggling spear. 
Vanished the mountain sword. 

As Bracklinn’s chasm, so black and steep. 
Receives her roaring linn, 


460 

465 

470 

475 

480 

485 


The Lady of the Lake 


175 


As the dark caverns of the deep 
Suck the whirlpool in, 

So did the deep and darksome pass 
Devour the battle’s mingled mass; 

None linger now upon the plain, 

Save those who ne’er shall fight again. 

XIX. 

“Now westward rolls the battle’s din. 

That deep and doubling pass within. 

—Minstrel, away! the work of fate 
Is bearing on: its issues wait, 

Where the rude Trosachs’ dread defile 
Opens on Katrine’s lake and isle.— 

Grey Benvenue I soon repassed. 

Loch Katrine lay beneath me cast. 

The sun is set;—the clouds are met. 

The lowering scowl of heaven 
An inky hue of livid blue 
To the deep lake has given; 

Strange gusts of wind from mountain glen 
Swept o’er the lake, then sunk again. 

I heeded not the eddying surge. 

Mine eye but saw the Trosachs’ gorge. 

Mine ear but heard that sullen sound. 
Which like an earthquake shook the ground. 
And spoke the stern and desperate strife 
That parts not but with parting life. 
Seeming, to minstrel-ear, to toll 
The dirge of many a passing soul. 

Nearer it comes—the dim-wood glen 
The martfal flood disgorged again. 

But not in mingled tide; 


490 

495 

500 

505 

510 

515 


176 


The Lady of the Lake 


The plaided warriors of the North 520 

High on the mountain thunder forth, 

And overhang its side; 

While by the lake below appears 
The darkening cloud of Saxon spears. 

At weary bay each shattered band, 525 

Eyeing their foemen, sternly stand; 

Their banners stream like tattered sail. 

That flings its fragments to the gale. 

And broken arms and disarray 

Marked the fell havoc of the day. 530 

XX. 

“Viewing the mountain’s ridge askance. 

The Saxons stood in sullen trance. 

Till Moray pointed with his lance. 

And cried—‘Behold yon isle!— 

See! none are left to guard its strand, 535 

But women weak, that wring the hand: 

’T is there of yore the robber band 
Their booty wont to pile;— 

My purse, with bonnet-pieces store. 

To him will swim a bow-shot o’er, 540 

And loose a shallop from the shore. 

Lightly we’ll tame the war-wolf then. 

Lord of his mate, and brood, and den.’— 

Forth from the ranks a spear-man sprung. 

On earth his casque and corselet rung, 545 

He plunged him in the wave:— 

All saw the deed—the purpose knew, 

And to their clamours Benvenue 

530. Havoc. In the edition of 1830 this word is spelled 
havsck. 



The Lady of the Lake 


177 



ELLEN’S ISLE. EO€H KATRINE AND BEN VENUE 








178 The Lady of the Lake 

A mingled echo gave; 

The Saxons shout, their mate to cheer, 

The helpless females scream for fear, 

And yells for rage the mountaineer. 

’T was then, as by the outcry riven. 

Poured down at once the lowering heaven; 

A whirlwind swept Loch Katrine’s breast. 

Her billows reared their snowy crest. 

Well for the swimmer swelled they high. 

To mar the Highland marksman’s eye; 

For round him showered, mid rain and hail. 
The vengeful arrows of the Gael.— 

In vain.—He nears the isle—and lo! 

Hijs hand is on a shallop’s bow. 

—Just then a flash of lightning came. 

It tinged the waves and strand with flame;— 
I marked Duncraggan’s widowed dame. 

Behind an oak I saw her stand, 

A naked dirk gleamed in her hand;— 

It darkened,—but amid the moan 
Of waves I heard a dying groan;— 

Another flash!—the spear-man floats 
A weltering corse beside the boats. 

And the stern matron o’er him stood, 

Her hand and dagger streaming blood. 

XXL 

“ ‘Revenge! revenge!’ the Saxons cried. 

The Gael’s exulting shout replied. 

Despite the elemental rage. 

Again they hurried to engage; 

But, ere they closed in desperate fight, 

Bloody with spurring came a knight. 


550 

555 

560 

565 

570 

575 


The Lady of the Lake 


179 


Sprung from his hor^e, and, from a crag, 
Waved ’twixt the hosts a milk-white flag. 
Clarion and trumpet by his side 
Rung forth a truce-note high and wide, 

While, in the Monarch’s name, afar 
An herald’s voice forbade the war. 

For Bothwell’s lord, and Roderick bold. 

Were both, he said, in captive hold.”— 

—But here the lay made sudden stand. 

The harp escaped the Minstrel’s hand! 

Oft had he stolen a glance, to spy 
How Roderick brooked his minstrelsy: 

At first, the Chieftain, to the chime. 

With lifted hand, kept feeble time; 

That motion ceased,—yet feeling strong 
Varied his look as changed the song; 

At length, no more his deafened ear 
The minstrel melody can hear; 

His face grows sharp,—his hands are clenched, 
As if some pang his heart-strings wrenched; 
Set are his teeth, his fading eye 
Is sternly fixed on vacancy;— 

Thus, motionless, and moanless, drew 
His parting breath, stout Roderick Dhu!— 

Old Allan-bane looked on aghast. 

While grim and still his spirit passed; 

But when he saw that life was fled. 

He poured his wailing o’er the dead. 

XXII. 

LAMENT 

“And art thou cold and lowly laid, 

Thy foeman’s dread, thy people’s aid. 


580 

585 

590 

595 

600 

605 


180 


The Lady of the Lake 




Breadalbane’s boast, Clan-Alpine’s shade! 
For thee shall none a requiem say? 

—For thee,—who loved the minstrel’s lay, 
For thee, of BothwelTs house the stay. 

The shelter of her exiled line. 

E’en in this prison-house of thine. 

I’ll wail for Alpine’s honoured Pine! 

“What groans shall yonder valleys fill! 
What shrieks of grief shall rend yon hill! 
What tears of burning rage shall thrill. 
When mourns thy tribe thy battles done, 
Thy fall before the race was won. 

Thy sword ungirt ere set of sun! 

There breathes not clansman of thy line, 
But would have given his life for thine.— 
0 woe for Alpine’s honoured Pine! 

“Sad was thy lot on mortal stage!— 

The captive thrush may brook the cage. 
The prisoned eagle dies for rage. 

Brave spirit, do not scorn my strain! 

And, when its notes awake again. 

Even she, so long beloved in vain. 

Shall with my harp her voice combine. 
And mix her woe and tears with mine. 
To wail Clan-Alpine’s honoured Pine.’’— 


610 


615 


620 


625 


630 


XXIII. 

Ellen, the while, with bursting heart. 
Remained in lordly bower apart. 

Where played, with many-coloured gleams. 


613. Bothicell, Douglas. 



The Lady of the Lake 


181 


Through storied pane the rising beams. 

In vain on gilded roof they fall, 

And lightened up a tapestried wall, 

And for her use a menial train 
A rich collation spread in vain. 

The banquet proud, the chamber gay. 

Scarce drew one curious glance astray; 

Or, if she looked, ’t was but to say. 

With better omen dawned the day 
In that lone isle, where waved on high 
The dun deer’s hide for canopy; 

Where oft her noble father shared 
The simple meal her care prepared. 

While Lufra crouching by her side. 

Her station claimed with jealous pride. 

And Douglas, bent on woodland game. 
Spoke of the chase to Malcolm. Graeme, 
Whose answer oft at random made. 

The wandering of his thoughts betrayed.— 
Those who such simple joys have known 
Are taught to prize them when they’re gone. 
But sudden, see, she lifts her head! 

The window seeks with cautious tread. 
What distant music has the power 
To win her in this woeful hour? 

’T was from a turret that o’erhung 
Her latticed bower, the strain was sung. 


640 


645 


650 


655 


660 


638. Storied pane. Colored glass, the designs suggest¬ 
ing stories. 



182 


The Lady of the Lake 


XXIV. 

LAY OF THE lAlPKISONED HUNTSMAN 

“My hawk is tired of perch and hood, ^^*5 

My idle greyhound loathes his food, 

My horse is weary of his stall. 

And I am sick of captive thrall. 

I wish I were as I have been. 

Hunting the hart in forest green, 

With bended bow and blood-hound free. 

For that’s the life is meet for me. 

“I hate to learn the ebb of time. 

From yon dull steeple’s drowsy chime. 

Or mark it as the sun-beams crawl, 675 

Inch after inch, along the wall. 

The lark was wont my matins ring. 

The sable rook my vespers sing; 

These towers, although a king’s they be. 

Have not a hall of joy for me. 680 

“No more at dawning morn I rise, ~ 

And sun myself in Ellen’s eyes. 

Drive the fleet deer the forest through. 

And homeward wend with evening dew; 

A blithesome welcome blithely meet, 685 

And lay my trophies at her feet. 

While fled the eve on wing of glee,— 

That life is lost to love and me!”— 


665. Tired of perch and hood. The hawk was tired of 
idleness. It was blinded by a hood when it was not being 
used in the hunt. 



The Lady of the Lake 


183 


XXV. 


The heart-sick lay was hardly said, 

The listener had not turned her head, 

It trickled still, the starting tear. 

When light a footstep struck her ear. 

And Snowdoun’s graceful Knight was near. 
She turned the hastier, lest again 
The prisoner should renew his strain. 

'‘0 welcome, brave Fitz-James!” she said; 
“How may an almost orphan maid 

Pay the deep debt”-“Oh say not so! 

To me no gratitude you owe. 

Not mine, alas! the boon to give. 

And bid thy noble father live; 

I can but be thy guide, sweet maid. 

With Scotland’s King thy suit to aid. 

No tyrant he, though ire and pride 
May lead his better mood aside. 

Come, Ellen, come!—’t is more than time. 
He holds his court at morning prime.” — 
With beating heart, and bosom wrung, 

As to a brother’s arm she clung. 

Gently he dried the falling tear, 

And gently whispered hope and cheer; 

Her faltering steps half led, half stayed. 
Through gallery fair and high arcade. 
Till, at his touch, its wings of pride 
A portal arch unfolded wide. 


G90 


695 


700 


705 


710 


715 


XXVI. 

Within ’t was brilliant all and light, 
A thronging scene of figures bright; 



The Lady of the Lake 


It glowed on Ellen’s dazzled sight, 

As when the setting sun has given 
Ten thousand hues to summer even, 

And, from their tissue, fancy frames 
Aerial knights and fairy dames. 

Still by Fitz-James her footing stayed; 

A few faint steps she forward made. 

Then slow her drooping head she raised, 
And fearful round the presence gazed; 

For him she sought, who owned this state. 
The dreaded Prince whose will was fate!— 
She gazed on many a princely port. 

Might well have ruled a royal court; 

On many a splendid garb she gazed, — 

Then turned bewildered and amazed. 

For all stood bare; and, in the room, 
Fitz-James alone wore cap and plume. 

To him each lady’s look was lent; 

On him each courtier’s eye was bent; 

Midst furs and silks and jewels sheen. 

He stood, in simple Lincoln green. 

The centre of the glittering ring. — 

And Snowdoun’s Knight is Scotland’s King! 

XXVIL 

As wreath of snow, on mountain-breast. 
Slides from the rock that gave it rest. 

Poor Ellen glided from her stay. 

And at the Monarch’s feet she lay; 

No word her choking voice commands, — 

She showed the ring — she clasped her hands. 
0! not a moment could he brook. 

The generous Prince, that suppliant look! 


The Lady of the Lake 


185 


Gently he raided her,—and, the while, 

Checked with a glance the circle’s smile; 'i’50 
Graceful, (but grave, her brow he kissed, 

And bade her terrors be dismissed:— 

“Yes, fair; the wandering poor Fitz-James 
The fealty of Scotland claims. 

To him thy woes, thy wishes, bring; '<'55 

He will redeem his signet ring. 

Ask naught for Douglas;—yester even, 

His Prince and he have much forgiven: 

Wrong hath he had from slanderous tongue, 

I, from his rebel kinsmen, wrong. '<'00 

We would not to the vulgar crowd 
Yield what they craved with clamour loud; 
Calmly we heard and judged his cause, 

Our council aided and our laws. 

I stanched thy father’s death-feud stern, '<'05 
With stout De Vaux and grey Glencairn; 

And Bothwell’s Lord henceforth we own 
The friend and bulwark of our Throne.— 

But, lovely infidel, how now? 

What clouds thy misbelieving brow?— '<"<'0 

Lord James of Douglas, lend thine aid; 

Thou must confirm this doubting maid.”— 

XXVIII. 

Then forth the noble Douglas sprung, 

And on his neck his daughter hung. 

Th6 Monarch drank, that happy hour, '<"<'5 

The sweetest, holiest draught of Power,— 

When it can say, with godlike voice, 

Arise, sad Virtue, and rejoice! 

Yet would not James the general eye 


186 


The Lady of the Lake 


On Nature’s raptures long should pry; 

He stepped between—“Nay, Douglas, nay, 
Steal not my proselyte away! 

The riddle ’t is my right to read. 

That brought this happy chance to speed.— 
Yes, Ellen, when disguised I stray 
In life’s more low but happier way, 

’T is under name which veils my power. 

Nor falsely veils—for Stirling’s tower 
Of yore the name of Snowdoun claims, 

And Normans call me James Fitz-James. 

Thus watch I o’er insulted laws, 

Thus learn to right the injured cause.”— 
Then in a tone apart and low, 

—“Ah, little traitress! none must know 
What idle dream, what lighter thought. 

What vanity full dearly bought. 

Joined to thine eye’s dark witchcraft, drew 
My spell-bound steps to Benvenue, 

In dangerous hour, and all but gave 
Thy Monarch’s life to mountain glaive!”— 
Aloud he spoke—“Thou still dost hold 
That little talisman of gold. 

Pledge of my faith, Fitz-James’s ring— 

What seeks fair Ellen of the King?”— 

XXIX. 

Full well the conscious maiden guessed 
He probed the weakness of her breast; 

But, with that consciousness, there came 
A lightening of her fears for Graeme, 

791. Thus wutch I o'er insulted laws. See Introduc 
tion, “James V. of Scotland.” 



The Lady of the Lake 


187 


And more she deemed the Monarch’s ire 
Kindled ’gainst him, who, for her sire. 
Rebellious broad-sword boldly drew; 

And, to her generous feeling true. 

She craved the grace of Roderick Dhu.— 
“Forbear thy suit:—the King of Kings 
Alone can stay life’s parting wings, 

I know his heart, I know his hand, 

Have shared his cheer, and proved his brand;— 
My fairest earldom would I give 
To bid Clan-Alpine’s Chieftain live!— 

Hast thou no other boon to crave? 

No other captive friend to save?”— 

Blushing, she turned her from the King, 

And to the Douglas gave the ring, 

As if she wished her sire to speak 
The suit that stained her glowing cheek.— 
“Nay, then, my pledge has lost its force. 

And stubborn justice holds her course.— 
Malcolm, come forth!”—and, at the word, 
Down kneeled the Graeme to Scotland’s Lord. 
“For thee, rash youth, no suppliant sues. 
From thee may Vengeance claim her dues, 
Who, nurtured underneath our Smile, 

Hast paid our care by treacherous wile. 

And sought, amid thy faithful clan, 

A refuge for an outlawed man. 

Dishonouring thus thy loyal name.— 

Fetters and warder for the Graeme!”— 

His chain of gold the King unstrung. 

The links o’er Malcolm’s neck he flung, 

Then gently drew the glittering band. 

And laid the clasp on Ellen’s hand. 


810 

815 

820 

825 

830 

835 

840 


188 


The Lady of the Lake 


Harp of the North, farewell! The hills grow dark, 

On purple peaks a deeper shade descending; 

In twilight copse the glow-worm lights her spark. 

The deer, half-seen, are to the covert wending. 845 
Resume thy wizard elm! the fountain lending. 

And the wild breeze, thy wilder minstrelsy; 

Thy numbers sweet with Nature’s vespers blending. 
With distant echo from the fold and lea. 

And herd-boy’s evening pipe, and hum of housing 
bee 

Yet, once again, farewell, thou Minstrel Harp! 

Yet, once again, forgive my feeble sway. 

And little reck I of the censure sharp 
May idly cavil at an idle lay. 

Much have I owed thy strains on life’s long way, 855 
Through secret woes the world has never known. 
When on the weary night dawned wearier day. 

And bitterer was the grief devoured alone. 

That I o'erlive such woes. Enchantress! is thine own. 

Hark! as my lingering footsteps slow retire, 860 

Some Spirit of the Air has waked thy string! 

’T is now a Seraph bold, with touch of fire, 

’T is now the brush of Fairy’s frolic wing. ‘ 

Receding now, the dying numbers ring 
Fainter and fainter down the rugged dell, 865 

And now the mountain breezes scarcely bring 
A wandering witch-note of the distant spell— 

And now, ’t is silent all!—Enchantress, fare thee well! 


Glossary 

abbess — superior or governess of a nunnery 
ambuscade—n concealed station where enemies lie in 
wait to surprise 
anathema — a cnrse; a ban 
antlered — -having branched horns 
apparition — a ghost; a specter; a phantom 
apprehen sire — ^fearful 

archery — the art of shooting with how and arrows 

architect — a person who plants or designs buildings 

ardent — stirring; fervent; impassioned 

arraignment — an accusation; a denouncement 

askance — sideways 

assuage — to calm ; to soothe 

athu'art — across 

atone — to make amends for; to reconcile 
augur — to predict; to foretell 

augury — a prediction ;* a foretelling; the ceremony used to 
foretell events 
auspicious — ^favorable 
baffled — deceived ; cheated 
ban — a curse 

banditti — ^liighwaymen ; robbers 
bard — a poet; a minstrel 
bark — a boat 
baron — a nobleman 

barret-cap —an ancient flat military cap 
battalia — an army in battle array 
batten — to fatten 
beaker — a goblet; a cup 
beetle — 'to extend ; to overhang 
beguile — to deceive 

beshrew — to wish ill to; to cui’se mildly 

bier — the framework for holding a coflin 

bittern — a species of heron 

bland—gent]e ; mild 

bla s p h emy — ^i>r of a ni ty 

blast — to destroy 

blench — to shrink back ; to flinch 


190 


The Lady of the Lake 


blithe —joyous ; gay 

boding —foretelling evil; foreboding 

bonnet-piece —a coin of James V. of Scotland bearing the 
figure of the king’s head wearing a bonnet 
boon —^n. a favor, adj. kind; bountiful 
bootless —profitless ; useless 
bosky —wooded 
boss —a projection 
bonne —prepared ; ready 
bourgeon —to sprout 
bourne —a boundary 

bout —a battle; a fit of drunkenness or revelry 
bracken —^a fern 

brae—n bank; a hillside; a slope 
brake —la thicket; a kind of fern 
brawl —a quarrel; a row 
brooch —a gold ornamental pin (brooch) 
brook —to endure; to bear 

broom —a shrub of the bean family having long, slender 
green branches and showy yellow flowers 
bulwark —a fortification ; a projection 
burgher —a townsman 
shining 

burthen —a burden ; a subject 

butt —a large wine cask. In archery, a target 

buxom —lively 

cabara —mysteries 

cadence —rhythm 

cah'7i —a heap of stones 

caitiff —a wretch 

canna —cotton grass 

casque —a helmet 

catch —a part song 

cavil —to make frivolous objections to 

chalice —a goblet; a cup 

chanter —the finger-pipe of the bagpipe 

chaplet —a wreath; a garland 

chase —^a hunt 

chide —to reprove ; to scold 

chisel —a tool used in shaping wood, stone, etc. 


Glossary 


191 


chivalry — knighthood 
churlish — surly ; sullen 

clan — a group comprising a number of families, the heads' 
of which claim descent from a common ancestor 
claymore — a large two-edged sword used by the Scottish 
Highlanders 

cleave — to part or separate, as by cutting 
cloister — a monastery, convent or other similar establish¬ 
ment 

clemency — mercy; the disposition to forgive 
cognizance — a knightly emblem 

coif — a close-fitting cap or kerchief tied about the head 
coil — confusion ; tumult 
collation — a light meal 
conceit — a fanciful idea 

conjure — to charge or call upon in a sacred name ; to en¬ 
treat 

copse — a thicket or grove of small trees 
cormorant — a kind of sea bird which devours fish 
coronach- -a funeral song 
coronet — a crown; a wreath 

correi — “The hollow side of a hill where game usually lies” 
— Scott 

corselet — a breastplate 
courier — a swift messenger 
('ourser — a swift or spirited horse 
covert — a hiding place 
coiecr—ito crouch tremblingly 
Cowl — a monk’s hood 

m'cst — the helmet decoration of a knight ; the ridge of the 
neck of an animal; a roof ornament; a coat-of-arms 
cuhit — about eighteen inches 
cumher — n. trouble; difficulty, v. to hinder 
cupola — a small strudture on the top of a roof of a build¬ 
ing originally used as a look-out 
curleiv — a bird of the snipe family 

damosel^the old form of damsel, meaning girl or maiden 
(lehauch — an indulgence in drinking 
deemed — thought; considered 
deign—to condescend 


192 


The Lady of the Lake 


(Unglc — a narrow valley 

(Urge — a song expressing grief or mourning 

(Uric — a dagger 

(1 i fsdainful — scornful 

(Usemhodied — having no body 

dispeffsation — ^a release from obedience to certain laws 

d(je — a female deer 

dross — waste ; refuse 

dun — <a yellowish- or grayish-brown color 

eglantine — the sweetbrier 

emhlem — a symbol ; an image 

embossed — ^covered 

emprise — an adventure; an enterprise 
enehantress — ^one who charms 
enon : — enough 

enthusiast — an ardent, imaginative person 
e nven o me d — ^po i s o n e d 
erne — a sea eagle 
errant — wandering 

espidl —'the act of spying . 

essay — to try > 

estranged — =to become as strangers ; withdrawn ‘ 

execration — a curs© 

expire — to die 

eyry — an eagle’s nest 

fagot — a bundle of sticks for fuel 

fain — gladly 

faMiion — ^a broad-bladed sword, slightly curved 

falcon — a hawk used for hunting 

fallou: — )n. cleared woodland, adj, pale yellow 

fane — a church ; an abbey 

fantastic — fanciful 

favor — a token 

fawn — a young deer 

fay — a fairy 

fealty — loyalty ; faithfulness 

feint~4o make a mock attack on one part when another 
part is the real object of attack 
felU-i\. a mountain, adj. cruel; inhuman 
fen — low swampy land . ^ 


The Lady of the Lake 


193 


festal — joyous ; keeiung holiday 

fetter — a shackle 

feud — la quarrel; strife 

fidelity — faithfulness ; loyalty 

fieldfare — a medum-sized European thrush 

Uial — of or pertaining to a son or daughter 

flagon — a vessel for liquors usually with handle and spout 

fleeked — ^streaked ; spotted 

foiled — defeated ; outwitted 

foray — ^a raid 

frantie —violent; insane 

frigate — a ship; a boat 

gauntlet — a glove; the steel glove of the armor 

girdled—enciveled 

glaive — a sword 

glee-maiden — a woman minstrel 

glazing — flattering 

goading — exciting ; irritating 

goss-hawk, goshawk — a large, short-winged hawk noted for 
activity and courage 

Gothie — a style of architecture common from about 1160 
to 1530, characterized by pointed arches, teep roofs, and 
relatively great height 

Graee — one of the three beautiful sister goddesses 

grot — ^a cave 

guerdofi — reward 

guileless — artless ; frank 

guise — manner ; aspect 

gyve — a shackle ; a fetter 

halherd — a long-handled weapon no longer in use 

hallowed — made sacred ; consecrated 

h a m le t — a v i 11 a ge 

harness — armor 

havoe — destruction 

hazard — risk ; peril 

heath — ^the evergreen shrub found on the heath; open level 
land usually covered with evergreen shrubs 
heather — an evergreen shrub 

henehman — ‘the “\gillie” or “right-hand man'' of a Scottish 
chieftain ; “a trusted follower and supporter'’ — Scott. 




194 


The Lady of the Lake 


i 

hermit —one wlio lives in solitnde i 

hind — tile female of the red deer I 

honiicide — a inanslayer; the killing of any human being liy J 
another | 

imbrue — to moisten ; to drench i 

impen din g —threatening ■ 

imprecation —a curse ' 

incessant — unceasing ; continuons ; constant 
inemnhen t — overhanging 
infamy — dishonor 
infidel —one lacking faith 

inf j'inge — to violate; to trespass; to encroach 
instin ct ire — na tural 
insulated — set apart; isolated 
inured —accustomed ; hardened 
invulnerable — incapable of receiving injury 
ire —anger ; wrath 

jack — a medieval coat of mail made of two thicknesses of 
leather or cloth and padded 
jennet —a small Spanish horse 
jeopardy —hazard; danger 

juniper — an evergreen shrub or small tree of the pine 
family 
ken —sight 
kern —a peasant 

lackey —to act as servant to , 

lair —a bed ; a couch 
lave — to bathe; to wash 

lay —a song ; a iioem . 

layman —one not of the clergy 
leech— 2 i physician; a surgeon 
iicemtious —lawless ; immoral 

lichen —a dark, dry-looking plant found growing on trees, 
rocks, etc. 
limpid —clear 
lineage —race ; family 

linn —a waterfall; a cataract < 

linnet —a small singing bird j 

loiterer —one slow in moving 
loop —a small, narrow opening; a loophole 



Glossary 


195 


1 urch — ^niiba rra ssmeiit 

ll/rc — a striiij^ed musical instnimeut, resembling a harp and 
having, usually, seven strings 
man lac — a violently insane person 
marring — spoiling ; ruining 
marauding —plundering ; robbing 
martial — warlike 

matin — n. a morning jirayer. adj. mornbig 

mavis — a thrush 

meed — a desert 

meet — titting ; ap])ropriate 

menial — n. a servant, adj. servile 

mere — a lake 

merle — a blackbird 

meived — confined 

mien — bearing ; air 

m i rnierg — i m i t a t ion 

m il la 1 'e t — a tow e r 

minion — favorite (sometimes used scornfully) 
moat — a defensive ditch on the outside of a castle or fort¬ 
ress wall 

morricg-dance, niorris-danee — an old fashioned rustic dance 
in England in which the performers took the part of 
Robin Hood and other characters in English folk-lore 
mos<iue — a Mohannnedan p’ace of worship 
muster — to come togetln'i*; to assend>le 
mute — silent 

Xalad — one of the nymiihs b('lieved to inhabit the lakes, 
rivers, siudiigs and fountains 
niee — exact 

niggard — a stingy person ; a miser 
nuptia'l~n marriage; a wedding 
ngmph — a goddess of the forest 

ohseure — v. to conceal ; to hid(‘. adj. unknown, not clear 

odiorm — hateful 

omen — a sign ; an augury 

onset — ^an attack 

orison — a prayer 

osier — a willow 

pageant ~ a disi)lay; a show. adj. siK^dacular 


196 


The Lady of the Lake 


pugod, pugodd —a teiuide having many towers 

palfrey —a saddle horse 

pall —a rich cloth 

parley —a talk ; a conference 

patriarch —ta father and ruler 

penance —repentance ; grief 

pennon —a flag; a banner; a wing 

petty —trifling ; inconsiderable 

phantofri ’—a ghost; a specter 

pihrocli —bagpipe music, usually warlike 

pillage —plundering 

pinions —wings 

pinnacle —la spire; a lofty peak 

pja4d—n rectangular cloth, usually of tartan, worn by both 
sexes of Scotland instead of a cloak 
plover —a short bird haying a short bill 
ponhp —display ; splendor 
portico —a kind of porch 
precipitate —sudden, abrupt 

preface —something introdiictory or preliminary 

prelude —an introduction 

presage —^to foretell; to predict 

presumption —l)oldness ; arrogance 

pretext —a reason given to conceal the true one 

py-'ich —to ride with spurs 

primeval —belonging to the flrst ages 

py'omontory —a high point of land or rock i)rojecting into 
the sea 

proselyte —one who has been woik over to a belief or creed 
protvUng —searching about stealthily 

ptarmigan —a kind of grouse having white plumage in win¬ 
ter and dark in summer 
purvey —to furnish ; to supply 
quarry —game ; the object of the chase 
quarterstaff —a staft formerly used as a weapon 
ques tin g —^hunting 
y'ampart —an embankment 
reave —tto sweep away ; to plunder; to rob 
t ecompense —a reward 
recreant —a cowardly wretch 


Glossary 


197 


reft — robbed 

refluent — flowinjj: back 

reluct a n t — mi willing 

remlezrou^i — a meeting-place 

repiniiii/ — complaining; sorrowing 

requiem — a musical service or hymn in honor of the dead 
ret ri hut i on — ipii n i sh m en t 

reveille — a signal by bugle or drum at sunrise to call sol¬ 
diers to the day’s duties 
rerelri / — merriment 
rite — a ceremony 
ritual — a ceremony 
roe — a small deer, hind or doe 
roehuek — a male deer 
rood — «i cross ; a crucitix 
rout — a disorderly gathering 

rowan — a tree having white flowers and red berries, us¬ 
ually called the mountain ash 
russet — ‘reddish- or yellowish-brown 
rit t h less — pitiless 
sable — black 
saek — wine 
sage — ^wise 

satyr — a deity or demigod of the forest, part man and part 
horse or goat 

seahhard — a sheath for a sword or dagger 

scathe — n. severe injury; harm; danger, v. to sear; to scar 

scatheless — free from harm 

scaur — a cJitf 

sedgy — marshy and densely covered with grass-like herbs 
seer — <me who foretells events 
semblance — a likeness 
sentien t — feeling 

sequestered — secluded; isolated; set apart 

serf — a member of the lowest peasant class 

serried — pressed together ; crowded 

shai:toir — a shallow place in a body of water 

shallop — a light, open boat 

shin gle — coarse gravel 

shrewdly — shari)ly ; kec'idy 


198 


The Lady of the Lake 


signet — a seal 

simpcrcr — one who smiles in a silly or affected manner 
siakv —to hnencli; to extinguish ; to cool 
snood — 'a band worn around the hair by young, unmarried 
women in Scotland 
sooth —'ll. truth, adj, truthful 
spectre — a ghost; a phantom 

spelt —a cliarm ; words supposed to have magic power 
spleen — anger ; ill humor 

spontaneous —^^iiatural; coming without effort 
squadron — a body of troops drawn up in a square 
stanch — n. a foundation, adj. lojml; steadfast 
strath — a wide, open valley 

strathspey — ^a lively Scottish dance, like a reel 

strand —the shore 

streight — difficulty 

suhterrancan —underground 

suppliant — K)iie who pleads 

sylran — of the woods; rustic 

symbol — a sign; an emblem 

symphony — ^a harmony of sounds 

talisman — a charm 

target — a shield ; a buckler 

tartan — woolen cloth, checkered or crossbarred with bands 
of various colors, much worn in the Scottish High¬ 
lands 

tiller — one who uses a lance in combat 
timorons -itimid 
toil —a net; a snare 

troll — to sing in a free, hearty manner 
trophy— memorial of victory 
troth—4vutl\; faith 
trow — to believe ; to trust 

ti'ucc — an armistice ; a time during which fighting is stop¬ 
ped by agreement 

truncheon — a baton of command or authority 

turret — p tower 

unfathoma ble —unmeasurable 

unrequited —not returned 

umvonted — tunaecustomed 


Glossary 


199 


uphraiding — ‘1)lamiii:x; reproacliiiig 

laU a kind of squirrel skiu much used in the fourteenth 
century as trimming for costly dresses 
vofisal — one who has promised homage and loyalry to an¬ 
other in return for protection 
vaward —situated in the front 
veer in g — Kv i n d in g 
vehemence —eagerness ; violence 
verdan t — green 
vesper — ^an evening prayer 
vicar — 1 \ priest; a clergyman 
vindictive —revengeful 
visage — the face • 

void —empty ; being without 
votaress — ^one devoted to some service 
ivara—n. guardianship; keeping, v. to guard; to protect 
luarder—a keeper; a guard; a sentinel 
iveal —-safety 
weeds — garments 
whin yard —a short sword 
wily — tricky ; crafty 

wizard —adj. magical; enchanting, n. a man supposed to 
have supernatural powers 
woned — -dwelled 
ivold — a forest 
wot — to know 
wreaic — fo revenge 
yeornan — -an attendant 
yore — long ago 
zeal —eagerness ; enthusiasm 




Suggestions to Teachers 

The Lady of the Lake was. written to be en¬ 
joyed. As Scott himself has told us that his ap¬ 
peal is to “young people of bold and active dispo¬ 
sitions/’ surely any presentation of the poem 
from which a class of ninth graders has not de¬ 
rived pleasure will have been a failure. 

Once the pupil has entered into the spirit of 
the narrative, the study of the poem offers little 
difficulty. It is, however, sometimes a bit difficult 
to start a group of first year high school pupils 
in such way that they will interpret the stanzas 
readily and derive both understanding and en¬ 
joyment from their reading. If pupils are to 
gain in literary appreciation they must them¬ 
selves become the interpreters. It will not do, 
then, for them to rely upon the instructor’s read¬ 
ing aloud the narrative to them, they having been 
relieved of all responsibility in the matter. 

For that reason the questions listed below a^^e 
given, with the suggestion that a number of stan¬ 
zas, the number to be determined by the pupils’ 
ability, be assigned for class preparation. The 
class period should then be spent in a discussion 
of the events, ideas, descriptions, etc., to which 
the questions have directed attention, and then 
in an appreciative reading aloud, by the instruct¬ 
or or some members of the class who read well, 
of the stanzas assigned and discussed. The class 
period should never be turned into a mere exer¬ 
cise in oral reading. It is generally, of course, con- 
[ 201 ] 


202 


The Lady of the Lake 


ceded that a part of the appeal of any poem is 
to the ear, and if full appreciation is to be re¬ 
ceived, this fact must be considered; but a stumb¬ 
ling, halting, unappreciative reading will serve 
not to increase but to kill the pleasure the oral 
reading should give. 

As the introductory stanzas mean little to the 
average ninth grade pupil until they have been 
explained, it would perhaps be best for the in¬ 
structor to read those aloud with her group be¬ 
fore any assignment has been made. They serve 
to put the readers into the right mood for what 
is to follow. 

The historical background must be understood 
before the poem is read. That part of the Intro¬ 
duction entitled Highlanders and Borderers and 
James V. of Scotland will probably give all the 
information which is necessary although it would 
be desirable for the teacher to supplement it with 
stories from her own reading. 

The glossary is intended to furnish explana¬ 
tions of the many words Scott has used which 
have almost or entirely passed out of usage and 
also of those other words which may not be a 
part of the vocabulary of a first year high school 
pupil. The glossary can be more conveniently 
used than could a dictionary, and its use should 
be encouraged and, if necessary, insisted upon. 
All use of the glossary and of the notes, (which 
have been placed for the pupils’ convenience, 
at the bottom of the pages containing the terms 
explained), should be a part of the preparation 
and of the discussion preceding the reading of the 


Suggestions to Teachers 


203 


poem. Once the oral reading of The Chase has 
begun it would be disastrous, of course, to inter¬ 
rupt the flight of the stag or the pursuit of the 
huntsman for the explanation of a difficult term. 

Many passages of The Lady of the Lake lend 
themselves excellently to dramatization. Usually 
boys and girls enjoy this type of work. If en¬ 
joyment is derived from it, a part of the class 
time may well be spent in this way. To be able 
to impersonate, one must understand the char¬ 
acter impersonated, and character evaluation is 
a first essential in literary appreciation. 

The dramatization project may be as simple 
or as extensive as the instructor and her group 
wish. It may consist merely of an oral reading 
of assigned portions, the pupils taking the parts 
of the characters, or it may consist of a produc¬ 
tion suitable for presentation on the school stage. 
The latter form of project would include the 
memorizing of parts, adequate costuming, and 
some attempt at stage scenery. It would also 
necessitate dividing the poem into acts and scenes, 
or, perhaps, into six reels, as of a motion picture, 
the divisions corresponding to the six cantos. • As 
not all of the events are related by means of dia¬ 
logue, the intervening narrative, as well as the 
descriptive and expository parts, would have to be 
worked out and presented in brief but effective 
summary, to be given between the acts or reels. 

The teacher may decide, because of lack of 
time, to take advantage of both individual and 
group study. The recitation period, dramatiza¬ 
tion projects, and study hall periods may be util- 


204 


The Lady of the Lake 


ized for group activities. Home study should be 
individual. It may prove feasible to assign por¬ 
tions of the story for recitation and group dis¬ 
cussion, and other portions to be read outside the 
class periods. The story can be kept moving rap¬ 
idly in this way. A few moments of review at 
the beginning of each class period will serve to 
link together the parts of the plot. 

The notebook prepared for the study of litera¬ 
ture by the general editors of this series will be 
of value in checking or testing the individual 
work. 

Objective tests have been prepared upon The 
Lady of the Lake by the general editors. They 
save the teacher’s time, give the pupil a definite 
measure of his knowledge of the classic, and pro¬ 
vide the beginner (both teacher and pupil) a 
measure of values. If the teacher will read over 
the objective test before she begins to teach this 
classic, the question of what to teach will be 
partly solved for her, because the printed test will 
sharpen her eyes and stimulate her imagination. 

Some of the varied suggestions in other units 
of this series are worth the attention of the teach¬ 
er. See the ‘'Suggestions to Teachers” in Sila^ 
Marner, The Idylls of the King, and Treasure 
Island. 


Questions For Study 

Biography, History and Criticism 

1. Why was Sir Walter Scott especially well 
fitted to write a story like The Lady of the 
Lake ? 

2. What kind of man was Scott? 

3. Name five of his other works. 

4. Is the story a true one? 

5. What may the poet or novelist give us which 
the historian could not give? 

6. What were the reasons for the constantly 
recurring feuds between the Highlanders 
and the Borderers? 

7. Describe the dress of the Highlanders. 

8. Tell what you can of their manner of fight¬ 
ing. 

9. Explain what is meant by a clan. 

10. What were some of the fine traits of the 
Highlanders? 

11. In what ways did the Borderers differ from 
the Highlanders? 

12. How did James V. happen to fall into the 
control of the Douglas family ? 

13. How did he escape this control ? 

14. Describe some of the personal traits of 
James V. 

15. Why did he go about his country in disguise? 

16. How did he succeed in quelling the Border¬ 
ers and the Highlanders? 

17. When and how did James V. die? 


[205] 


206 


The Lady of the Lake 


18. Judging from the three introductory stan¬ 
zas, what kind of story do you think The 
Lady of the Lake is? Why? 

19. What was Scott’s purpose in writing The 
Lady of the Lake ? 

20. What is the setting of the poem? 

21. When are the events of the story supposed 
to have taken place? 

Ccmto First 

1. Trace on the map the flight of the stag and 
the pursuit of the hunters. 

2. Tell, in as interesting a manner as you can, 
the story of the chase. 

3. Describe Loch Katrine as the Hunter first 
saw it. 

4. Describe Ellen as she first appears in the 
story. 

5. Relate briefly the conversation between El¬ 
len and the Huntsman. 

6. Describe Ellen’s home to which she took the 
stranger. 

7. What happened as the stranger crossed the 
threshold of the lodge? 

8. Who was Lady Margaret? How was she 
related to Ellen? 

9. How was the stranger entertained at the 
lodge? 

10. What suggestions do you receive from the 
Hunter’s dreams of his past life? What of 
his present attitude toward Ellen? 

11. Quote ten, or more, lines of this Canto which 
have pleased you. 


Questions for Study 


207 


Canto Second 

1. Who was Allan-bane? What were his du¬ 
ties ? 

2. What are the wishes expressed in the song 
the minstrel sang as the stranger departed? 

3. How did Ellen feel toward the stranger? 
Why does she scold herself for these feel¬ 
ings? 

4. What happened when Ellen asked Allan- 
bane to sing the praises of Malcolm Graeme? 
What does this sugest to you about the story 
to follow? Is Ellen distressed by this hap¬ 
pening? 

5. Who is Sir Roderick? Characterize him. 
How does he feel toward Ellen? What is 
her attitude toward him? 

6. Describe the home-coming of Roderick and 
his men. 

7. Describe the meeting of Ellen and her father. 

8. What news has Roderick brought his family? 

9. What does he propose to the Douglas as 
the best way out of their difficulty? What 
answer does he receive? 

10. How many characters of the story do you 
now know? Characterize each. 

11. What complications have entered into the 
plot? 

12. Quote the lines of this Canto which you have 
memorized. 


Canto Third 

1. Describe the manner in which the Highland 


208 The Lady of the Lake 

chieftains summoned the members of their 
clans for war. 

2. What were some of the powers attributed to 
Brian, the Hermit? 

3. Tell of some of the interesting Highland and 
Celtic superstitions to which Scott has re¬ 
ferred. 

4. Describe the ceremony through which the 
clansmen went in preparing the Fiery Cross 
for its journey. 

5. Trace for yourself a map of the route taken 
by the bearers of the cross. 

6. Are the scenes to which the bearers of the 
cross came effective? W'hy? 

7. Describe the retreat to which Ellen and her 
father had come. Tell what you can about it. 

8. Were Roderick’s words in lines 748-749 true? 

9. Do you like the songs interspersed in this 
Canto? Which do you like best? Does the 
meter of the songs differ from that of the 
main part of the poem? What is the meter 
of each? What is the rhyme scheme? 

10. Quote the lines memorized from Canto 
Third. 

Canto Fourth 

1. Retell the conversation between Malise and 
Norman, being careful to explain in detail 
the Taghairm. 

2. What was the prophecy which came to the 
hermit? 

3. What is your answer to line 170? 

4. Where does Ellen think her father has gone? 


Questions for Study 


209 


5. Tell the story of the ballad which Allan 
sings, trying to cheer Ellen. Why did he 
choose this ballad? Is Ellen as brave as 
Alice Brand? 

6. Describe the second meeting of Ellen with 
the stranger. Why has he returned? What 
are her fears for him? 

7. What gift does Fitz-James give Ellen as he 
leaves and with what promise? Is it likely 
that she will make use of it?- 

8. Describe the woman whom Fitz-James meets 
on the mountain path. 

9. What does her first song tell you about her 
life? 

10. Why does she feel kindly toward Fitz-James? 

11. How do you interpret her next song? What 
result did her warning have? 

12. Describe the meeting between Fitz-James 
and Roderick Dhu. What do you know of 
Scottish laws of hospitality? 

13. Quote the lines of this Canto which you have 
memorized. 

Canto Fifth 

1. What does the introductory stanza tell you 
of the events to follow in this Canto? 

2. Retell the conversation between Roderick 
Dhu and James Fitz-James. 

3. Is there any reason other than Scott’s love 
of this country for the descriptive passages 
given in the early part of this Canto? 

4. Describe the combat between the two men. 

5. Which was the braver and the more gener- 


210 The Lady of the Lake 

ous, Roderick Dhu or James Fitz-James? 
Give reasons for your opinion. 

6. Where does the climax of the poem occur? 
Why do you think so? 

7. Why has Douglas come to (Stirling? What 
does he find taking place on that day? What 
does he first decide to do? 

8. What is the attitude of the people toward 
James V? Is this true to history? 

9. Describe each of the contests in which Doug¬ 
las took part. What prizes did he win and 
how were they awarded? 

10. What disturbance did Ellen’s dog cause and 
what was the result? 

11. Explain the King’s speech to Lennox, lines 
818-835. Have others found his words to 
be true? 

12. With what circumstance does the Canto 
close? Where have you left each of the main 
characters ? 

13. Quote the lines memorized. 

Canto Sixth 

1. What pictures does the song with which the 
Canto opens suggest? 

2. Describe the Guard Room scene of the first 
four stanzas. 

3. How was Ellen received by the soldiers? 

4. What effect did the sight of the ring given 
Ellen by Fitz-James have on Lewis? 

5. What was the reason for the error made in 
taking Allan to Roderick’s room instead of 
to Douglas’s ? 


Questions for Study 


211 


6. What figure is used in stanza XIII to de¬ 
scribe the appearance of Roderick Dhu? Is 
it effective? 

7. Did you notice how effectively the minstrel 
told the story of the battle to Roderick? 
How is the nature background made to fit 
in with the events? Retell the story. 

8. What tributes does Allan pay to Roderick 
in the Lament? Are they deserved? 

9. Why has Malcolm been made a prisoner? 

10. Is Ellen well able to understand Malcolm’s 
song ? Why ? 

11. Describe the closing scene of the poem. How 
did Ellen first realize that James Fitz-James 
was James V.? How was Allan’s dream, 
Canto Fourth, lines 221-222, made to come 
true? 

12. Are the three concluding stanzas necessary? 
Why? (Reread the introductory stanzas 
Canto First.) 

13. Quote the lines memorized. 

The Poem as a Whole 

1. W*hy did Scott write The Lady of the Lake? 
Did he succeed in his purpose? 

2. To what type of poetry does the poem be¬ 
long? Explain. 

3. What is the meter of the main part of the 
poem? Of the introductory stanzas? 

4. How does the poem rhyme? 

5. How does the ballad given in Canto Fourth 
differ in meter and rhyme scheme from the 
main narrative? 


212 The Lady of the Lake 

6. What is the setting of the story? Was Scott 
familiar with the country described? 

7. During what century are the events of the 
story supposed to have taken place? 

8. What parts of the story are true? Which 
characters are fictitious? 

9. Name the important characters. Give a 
characterization of each. 

10. Retell the story of each Canto trying to use 
not more than three sentences for the events 
of a single Canto. 

11. How much time elapses from the opening of 
Canto First to the closing of Canto Sixth? 

12. What value have you gained from your study 
of this poem? 









































































































